Though usually more lauded for his lyrics than his guitar playing, Lou Reed had a distinctive style of strumming that can make replication a challenge and seemingly impossible for beginners to comprehend. With a combination of syncopations and muted strums, Reed’s rhythm guitar—from his time with the Velvet Underground to his solo career—has a groove and feel that all guitar players can learn from.
We’ll start with a relatively simple strummed hook that shows Reed’s roots. Ex. 1 is a variation on “There She Goes Again” from The Velvet Underground and Nico, which was recorded in 1966 and released in 1967. This strum was clearly inspired by Marvin Gaye’s “Hitch Hike,” as it duplicates Gaye’s intro almost exactly, albeit in a different key. (It is worth mentioning that “Hitch Hike” also inspired the Beatles “You Can’t Do That.”)
Ex. 1
Ex. 2 is the samething but performed with cowboy chords instead of barres.
Ex. 2
With Ex. 3, a la “Sister Ray” from 1967’s White Light/White Heat, we get into Reed’s more syncopated strums. Note that after the first beat, the emphasis of each strum is on an upbeat, including the changes from G to F, then from F to C, followed at the end by a typical Lou Reed-ism of strumming while in mid-change (though in all fairness, many guitarists do this). Thus, the last upbeat notes, which imply a G chord, are in fact a byproduct created by the switch, not a specific chord.
Ex. 3
Ex. 4 is the same strum but capoed at the 5th fret, using cowboy chords instead of barres.
Ex. 4
Our final Velvet reference, Ex. 5, comes from “Sweet Jane” (Loaded, 1970), which is a song I loathe teaching to students as it is deceptively tricky—it was the inspiration for this lesson—and can make one feel demoralized. True, the song has only four chords, but the syncopated switching and muted strums can cause problems for many players, and not just beginners. Take your time to get the nuances of the switches and mutes.
Ex. 5
Better yet, start with Ex. 6, which is a simplified version of Ex. 5, using cowboy chords instead of barre chords, as well as a more straightforward strum. True, it does not conform completely to the original, but it is a worthwhile starting point. Once this is mastered, try playing Ex. 5 with the open-position chords before moving onto the barres.
Ex. 6
Solo Years
Ex. 7 is a take on “Walk on the Wild Side” from 1972’s Transformer, arguably the most famous Lou Reed song. Here we’ve graduated from eighth-notes to 16th-notes in the right hand. Once again, the muted strums play a vital role.
Ex. 7
Like the previous two examples, you might want to start with the simpler Ex.8, although the only change is that the mutes have been omitted. This example demonstrates how essential the mutes are, as the feel changes completely when you leave them out.
Ex. 8
Ex. 9 also comes from Transformer and is a variation on“Vicious.” Additional syncopations and muted strums, both different from “…Wild Side,” complicate what should be carefree.
Ex. 9
Ex. 10 is, again, a simplified alternative.
Ex. 10
Examples 11 and 12 demonstrate two options for fretting chords, using Reed’s “Leave Me Alone” from Street Hassle (1978) as a vehicle.
Ex. 11
Ex. 12
Our last example, Ex. 13, is based on Reed’s late-’80s “comeback” hit, “Dirty Boulevard” from New York. Here we not only get syncopations, but a rhythmic variation in the chorus—same chords, different rhythms. Pay attention to that quick, almost-ghosted B note on the “and” of 1 in measure two. It almost seems like a mistake but it adds so much.
Ex. 13
The Lou Reed Legacy
When most fans think of Lou Reed, the first thing that comes to mind is his pioneering subversive, transgressive, and poetic lyrics. But, clearly, that is not all there is to his work. In truth, Lou Reed is an incomparable musician whose guitar playing should not be underestimated. So, take this lesson as a starting point and search out more of his idiosyncratic strums. You will be well rewarded.
The term counterpoint scares many people who think it is a carefully devised process that strips you of creative freedom. This is partly true, because some individuals have pushed the practice of counterpoint as strict rules at some point without explaining its purpose. I disagree with the view that music theory is a rule. Counterpoint, like serialism or any other principle of harmony, is simply a recipe for an expected result. These music theory recipes are not baking recipes where exact measurements must be made; music theory is more like cooking, which is more malleable and open to in-the-moment modifications.
Species Counterpoint
Why was counterpoint invented? Counterpoint has two primary goals: first, to ensure parts are singable, and second, to keep each “voice” independent. Let’s discuss the intervals aspect first. Some intervals are challenging to sing. Tritones, for instance, are not easy for even professional singers to hear and sing when sight reading. Even when time is spent with a piece, getting used to tritones takes a bit of digestion. (This is the main reason tritones were avoided for so long in music. Music was primarily vocal-based for quite some time, such as in 16th century Italian composer Giovanni Palestrina’s music. Carelessly placing tritones would make the music very difficult to sing.) With guitar, we don’t have to hear the notes before we play. We should, but it’s not required (and sometimes that’s what gets us in trouble). The species counterpoint recipe is designed to avoid certain dissonant intervals that are not approached by step. In other words, we don’t jump to or from a dissonance.
When music changed and new instruments became available, the recipes of species counterpoint changed, which makes sense as the limitations of hearing a note weren’t as much of an issue. As baroque composer and theorist Johann Joseph Fuchs proposed, the series counterpoint method is a recipe that places us in a particular time in history. By understanding and using the recipe of series counterpoint, we can connect with the rich musical tradition of the past.
Independence
During this same period, one of the main ingredients of music was that each “voice” (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) was to remain independent. You should be able to hear the journey of each voice on its own. The recipes for counterpoint ensure we maintain independence. Playing two 5ths in succession or two octaves in succession sounds unified and thus makes us lose independence. Using counterpoint, we can ensure that we don’t weave in and out of independent and unified sounds. In the era of early counterpoint, say the Palestrina era, composers didn’t think in terms of a predetermined chord progression. They thought about each line and made sure they merged in harmony. The music was written horizontally to ensure the lines didn’t crash or lose independence. This is considerably different from how we often make music in the rock genres of the 20th century. Bach started incorporating the thought of a “vertical” chord progression. Even before the 20th century, the recipes for counterpoint had evolved. But the evolution didn’t make the earlier recipes irrelevant; it added more options to our recipe book.
Voice Leading
Another critical thing about counterpoint is the movement from one note to another. This is similar to the earlier discussion about intervals that are hard to sing. Voice leading is a crucial aspect of counterpoint. It’s the art of connecting one note to another, whether in a single line or with chords. It ensures that our musical lines flow smoothly, guiding the listener’s ear through the composition. Writing a herky-jerky line that jumps all over the place makes it hard to sing. The art of voice leading is writing lines to feel and sound like they unfold and take us on a ride, but not a ride on a road ridden with potholes—think of a newly paved road on a highway. Counterpoint instills in us how to create even motion. So, when you want to create unrest and a feeling of a jerky experience, you’re applying intentionally.
Power of Suggestion
Counterpoint rules are not strict guidelines but rather flexible recipes or suggestions. Composers have always been free to write what they wanted (well, aside from political and religious oppression), using counterpoint to enhance their compositions, and many composers have experimented with expanding the counterpoint recipes. There are times when we need an expected result. This is when you can use tools to help you achieve that outcome. Although counterpoint was most popular in eras that have long since passed, it still holds significant value in our modern music industry. Its recipes, while evolving, continue to provide a solid foundation for contemporary music composition.
Broken Traditions
At some point, composers grew weary of the sounds they had heard for many years and started expanding. They stopped caring about losing the independence of voices and used parallel 5ths and octaves. Sometimes, they stopped caring about voice leading and wrote pointillistic music. Composers even started composing with noise (such as John Cage), or experimenting with electronic means of composition (Delia Derbyshire and Karlheinz Stockhausen). However, counterpoint still existed, and many of these composers, even though they strayed from some of the recipes, still deeply understood its structure, such as Arnold Schoenberg, who invented a system to avoid tonal harmony.
Lesson
I will give you more than just a dry recipe for species counterpoint in this lesson. Instead, I’ll focus on key elements that can be directly applied to your rock and pop compositions, making your music more dynamic and interesting. For each of these examples, I will live in the land of surf music, one of my favorite genres.
Imitation
In fugues, which are species counterpoint-based, we use something called imitation. Imagine we have two guitarists. Guitarist 1 plays a riff or melodic phrase, and then Guitarist 2 plays that same riff right after Guitarist 1 finishes. Guitar 2 is imitating Guitar 1. However, we can adjust the octave and pitches on which the imitation starts to add more variety to its performance.
For Ex. 1, I created a three-measure phrase for guitar 1 that I will imitate in measure two with Guitar 2. Guitar 2 is an exact copycat of Guitar 1, but they don’t play the part at the same time.
Ex. 2: For this example, I will drop the imitation for Guitar 2 an octave lower.
Ex. 3 is where the fun begins. As I mentioned earlier, we can start on different pitches for our imitation. If the theme (measures one through three) implies a key signature (we’re using the key of E minor for each of these examples to keep it simple), we can imply another key for the imitation but keep the same interval relationship and shape of the theme. We will outline the V chord (Bm) for measures four through six. The result is a conversation between two instruments that can move through a chord progression in a song or a couple of key centers for variety. We can use the same idea with guitar and bass or any other combination of instruments.
In counterpoint, we call the first riff or melodic phrase the “theme.” You may wonder what Guitar 1 is supposed to do while Guitar 2 (or in my recorded examples, bass) imitates the first riff. We have two options: One is to play free—you devise a harmony that works on top of the riff, but you don’t have to play this harmony on every imitation. It’s just an accompaniment that happens at that given time, as in Ex. 4a. Ex. 4b uses the same free accompaniment but moves bars four through six to B minor.
The second option is a countertheme. You can write a second riff that plays every time the imitation plays. The theme and countertheme are interconnected. They swap parts back and forth, as we see in Ex. 5a. Ex. 5b uses the same free accompaniment but moves bars four, five, and six to the key of B minor.
We already have a fruit-bearing tree. This technique prolongs material, using the same parts to lengthen and ornament the music you’re making. Johann Sebastian Bach was a master of this, and I highly recommend studying his music if you like imitation, canons, and fugues.
Consonance and Dissonance
Okay, now that you understand the basic concepts of imitation, theme, and countertheme, it’s time to start digging deeper into the concepts of harmony and voice leading. For counterpoint, we have two categories for interval organization. Consonant intervals are unisons, 3rds, 5ths, 6ths, and octaves. We also have dissonant intervals, such as 2nds, 4ths, and 7ths. Ex. 6 features consonant intervals, Ex. 7, dissonant.
In counterpoint, we only use dissonant intervals step by step. We never jump into them or leave them by leap. Jumping into dissonances can be off-putting. Yes, there are times when you want that sound, but there is a difference between knowing how to use dissonance and using dissonance that isn’t working. Ex. 8 is an example of jumping into dissonance. Many guitarists don’t know how to deal with dissonance when soloing, and songwriters sometimes can’t hear poorly approached dissonance when writing melodies. I know … it sure sounds like I’m talking about rules here! But really, it’s about using tools to achieve a desired result or fixing issues rather than strict regulations.
Strong Beats
In classical music, beat 1 is the strongest in the bar, followed by beat 3, the second strongest. Beats 2 and 4 are the strong beats in jazz. We will focus on beat 1 as the strong beat right now. It’s generally essential that beat 1 of each measure is consonant. The recipe states not to use dissonance on strong beats. There is more tolerance for dissonance on weak beats (2 and 4).
This means we must have an overview of our lines and how they meet at each bar on beat 1 (and beat 3). Beats 1 and 3 should be consonant using a unison, 3rd, 5th, 6th, or octave. Using species counterpoint allows us to tell a functional harmony story more clearly, making the story more apparent to the listener.
The Dreaded Parallel Perfect Intervals
If your head isn’t already spinning, get ready. Earlier, I mentioned that we want to maintain independence with each line in the counterpoint. We don’t want to hear them collapse into each other. Unisons, perfect 5ths, and octaves are perfect intervals. They are the most unified-sounding intervals, which means you lose the most independence when using them. Using two back-to-back octaves is a parallel motion of a perfect interval. This means the line’s independence is wholly lost, which we want to avoid in counterpoint. For this reason, we avoid placing parallel perfect 5ths and octaves successive to each other and adjacent strong beats. Check out Ex. 9 to hear parallel octaves and Ex. 10 for parallel 5ths. Bear in mind, of course, that some genres and periods completely disregard this, such as minimalism.
Shapes of Things
We have most of the basics laid out, except one more topic regarding the independence of lines. We want to maintain the independence of the line with interval choice rather than the direction of each line. When we think of musical lines, we want each line to have its own journey but not unfavorably crash into the other. To achieve this, we want each line to have a different shape and follow each other in parallel motion. We have options for variety.
1. Parallel motion: Each line moves in the same direction with perfect intervals (Ex. 11).
2. Similar motion: Each line moves in the same direction with constant intervals (Ex. 12).
3. Oblique motion: When one voice stays in the same position, the other voice moves (Ex. 13).
4. Contrary motion: When both lines move in opposite directions, offering the most independence (Ex. 14).
The idea is to have a variety of shapes to maintain independence of direction.
Final Thoughts
I know this is a lot to take in. Studying counterpoint is no small task. But I hope that this introductory lesson into the concepts of counterpoint illuminates its power as both a creative tool and a troubleshooting device for composing and building solos. Understanding counterpoint means only sometimes considering it in the composition process. You can write as you always do, but if something doesn’t sound right, it’s much easier and faster to diagnose and fix the problem. There are times when composing with counterpoint in mind can be a fantastic tool. It’s up to you to decide when to use the creative recipe.
Let’s take a look at building cool lines using root-position diatonic triads taken from the major scale. What is a triad? A triad is built by stacking three alternating notes from a scale. For example, if we take a G major scale (G–A–B–C–D–E–F#) and build a triad on the root by skipping every other note we get G–B–D, a major triad. Another way to think of this is to stack a minor third (B–D) on top of a major third (G–B). If we extend this process throughout the scale, we end up with the following triads: G, Am, Bm, C, D, Em, and F#°.
Because all these chords are diatonic to a single key, we can use them to create some interesting lines. Many rock and fusion guitarists who are inspired by saxophone players use this approach in their improvisations. Larry Carlton, Frank Gambale, and Steve Lukather are just a few of the notable 6-stringers who incorporate this approach into their phrasing.
When beginning to build lines with triads, many guitarists find that it can feel a bit dry and uninspiring. It’s not the most classically “guitaristic” way of approaching the instrument, but it can lead to some incredibly melodic playing and faster lines that really pique the listener’s ear. In this lesson, we’ll explore ways to practice our scales to get more comfortable with triads. I’ll also demonstrate techniques for building lines and then conclude with an improvised solo for you to check out.
The first six examples use notes from the G major scale. However, they’re played over an Am7 chord to give us an A Dorian (A–B–C–D–E–F#–G) flavor. In each audio example, the line is played up to speed and then at half the subdivision speed, so you can practice along. Take these ideas through each position of the major scale, both ascending and descending.
In Ex. 1, I’m playing diatonic triads up the scale in eighth-note triplets. You can use any articulation you wish (picking, legato, or hybrid picking). The goal isn’t to attain speed, but a sense of musicality when playing through these examples.
Ex. 1
For Ex. 2, we’re playing the triads “backwards,” starting on the top note of each root position triad and descending with triplets.
Ex. 2
Ex. 3 showcases the classic zig-zag technique often used by saxophone players. Here, we ascend the first triad and then descend through the next triad. This sequence continues through the example. As an extra bit of practice, try starting with a descending triad into an ascending one at the start of the exercise.
Ex. 3
Now let’s look at how to make these patterns sound compelling. Ex. 4 showcases the use of straight 16th-notes, where each triad is played in groups of four. This way we can get more out of each triad before moving to the next one.
Ex. 4
In the next lick (Ex. 5), we take our 16th-notes and create some odd groupings. The five-note pattern is to ascend two notes in one triad and then ascend three notes of the next triad. By playing a five-note pattern in groups of four, we give the line a syncopated, rising feel.
Ex. 5
We’re sticking with a five-note pattern for Ex. 6, but this time we are using a 1–3–5–1–3 pattern on each triad before moving on.
Ex. 6
Now that we’ve tackled some exercises to help get our fingers wrapped around the triads, let’s put these ideas into a more musical context. Ex. 7 is an eight-measure solo in the key of B minor. I won’t break it down note-for-note, but I encourage you to analyze it and pick out the triads I used. As a bonus, I’ve included the backing track I played over, so you can develop your own melodic phrases based on these techniques. Dive in!
The guitar has been a major factor in so many styles of music over the last 70 years, and any experienced musician can tell you that playing any one of those styles with authenticity takes countless hours of dedication. As we learn the instrument, we seek out music that we find inspiring to help guide us toward our voice. The legends we all know in the guitar pantheon have inspired millions of players. In my musical journey over the years, I’ve always been thrilled to discover unique musicians who never attained the same recognition as their more famous counterparts. With so much music at our disposal these days, I thought this group of guitarists deserved a little more spotlight. The inspiration and knowledge they have provided me were paramount in my development, and I wouldn’t be the player I am without them.
Biréli Lagrène’s Bombastic Bop
Standards was the first jazz guitar record I really listened to, and his playing on this entire album is devastating. There is so much groove, joy, and ferocity in every note. The way he lays ideas out on the fretboard made a lot of sense to me, his rhythms were intentional and clear, and it was surprisingly easy to dig into as a rock guitarist at the time. He has an extensive catalog of jazz, gypsy jazz, and fusion records with some of the best in the world, and he’s also a killer bass player who can sing just like Frank Sinatra! Ex. 1 is over the first eight measures of “Stella by Starlight.” I stole so much vocabulary from this solo that I can still play bits from memory 20 years later. Lagrène’s treatment of two-measure chunks to play his ideas was significantly helpful. Whether it was an engaging rhythmic phrase, constant eighth-notes, or just cramming in as much as he could, I stopped worrying so much about catching every chord change after I learned this one.
Ex. 1
Stella by Starlight
Old-School Swing!
George Barnes is a unique jazz guitarist who was a contemporary of Charlie Christian, Johnny Smith, and Django. A significant part of his early work was writing and arranging for radio and television, for NBC, and he also wrote the very first electric guitar method book in 1942. A friend in Austin gave me two CDs of his: a collection of his playing from the Plantation Party radio show and an overview of his octet recordings. The octet recordings sound like unhinged cartoon music with guitar and orchestral instruments and are highly enjoyable. Ex. 2 is a line I lifted from a recording of him playing “Ain’t Misbehavin.” It was one of the hippest endings I have ever heard on a jazz tune, and although I can’t find the recording anywhere, I still use it all the time. I love the intention in George Barnes’ playing. Swinging and mischievous, he always sounds like he was having fun.
Ex. 2
The George Barnes Sextet - Lover, Come Back to Me
“Thrilling” Rhythm Solos
David Williams is one of the greatest rhythm players of all time. He is responsible for most of the memorable guitar moments on Michael Jackson’s records, and all his parts have an infectious nature. He is the primary reason I got interested in rhythm guitar, and he is still an inspiration on that front. One of my favorite examples of his playing is the breakdown in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” (where Vincent Price does the rap). His signature thunderous right-hand approach to single-note rhythm parts is in full effect, and the natural accents between the two rhythm parts are infectious on their own but weave perfectly together. Ex. 3 is my interpretation of two interlocking parts in this style. He’s said in interviews that his concept as a player was to develop “rhythm solos” that could stand out front in a song, and this is a perfect example of that.
Ex. 3
Thriller
(Better than) Average Riffs
Though Hamish Stuart is most known for being an original member of the Average White Band, the singer/guitarist/composer/producer also did extensive work with heavyweights such as George Benson, Paul McCartney, Chaka Khan, and Aretha Franklin. Though AWB was still working until 1983, Hamish was doing sessions with various artists as a sideman in the early ’80s, including this excerpt from “Move Me No Mountain” off Chaka Khan’s Naughty from 1980 (Ex. 4). I’ve always loved the interplay between these two parts, range-wise and rhythmically. The lower pick line hits some unusual 16th-note placements, and the higher dyads have a churn to them that is amazing. Both parts together feel different rhythmically from anything I have ever heard but sound so cool and unique.
Ex. 4
Chaka Khan - Move Me No Mountain
Wayne Krantz
Wayne Krantz is one of those guys that hit me like a lightning bolt. Upon hearing him, I felt like I had “permission” to play more with the fingers of my right hand, use jagged and intentional rhythms, and above all, to play more naturally. Wayne has always played like himself. His control over rhythm and articulation alone is legendary, not to mention the vast body of unique work he has created. Ex. 5 is an excerpt from the only solo I ever learned of his, from “Infinity Split” off 1999’s Greenwich Mean. I love this solo because it is incredibly engaging rhythmically and melodically, but almost 100 percent inside the harmony. This solo taught me more about rhythmic placement and articulation than anything.
Ex. 5
Wayne Krantz - Infinity Split
Though I could only grab a certain percentage of these guys’ “vocabulary,” learning these parts over the years helped me find my sound. The result was an attempt to emulate some of their musicality in my way, rather than outright imitating them. Anything you hear that grabs your interest is probably worth sitting down and figuring out. While we might not mention the guitarists above alongside Hendrix or Van Halen, they have all done their part to put a brick in the cathedral, furthering music, and the instrument.
Do you overuse vibrato? Could you survive without it?
Vibrato is a powerful tool, but it should be used intentionally. Different players have different styles—B.B. King’s shake, Clapton’s subtle touch—but the key is control. Tom Butwin suggests a few exercises to build awareness, tone, and touch.
The goal? Find a balance—don’t overdo it, but don’t avoid it completely. Try it out and see how it changes your playing!