Combining a comprehensive knowledge of fretboard harmony with a take-no-prisoners approach, Kessel was a force to be reckoned with.
Intermediate
Intermediate
- Learn bite-sized Barney Kessel-isms you can immediately add to your own playing.
- Experiment with how Kessel used his fretting-hand thumb… if you dare.
- Examine Kessel’s approach to playing and harmonizing improvised lines.
Yeah. The guy means business.
Let’s take a look at some key elements of Kessel’s style by exploring one particular tune: his terrific live arrangement of Jimmy Van Heusen’s “Here’s That Rainy Day,” which I recently watched on YouTube. It features various hallmarks of his playing, and it’s where we’ll get all the following music examples.
Before getting started, note that Kessel used a pick almost exclusively, very rarely playing fingerstyle. All examples in this lesson are played with a pick.
Kessel’s Chordal Cool
When playing chords, Kessel frequently used his fretting-hand thumb, something unorthodox for most jazz players of the day. In fact, he would regularly use it to fret both the 6th and 5th strings simultaneously. In the first measure of Ex. 1, note how this enables him to include the low A when playing the D7b9/A. This type of voicing is rare in jazz guitar, as the resulting fourth interval between the lowest two notes creates a thicker sound most jazz players tend to stay away from. However, in Kessel’s hands, it just works.
Kessel was a master of tastefully filling in the open spaces which naturally occur in melodies. In the midst of his solo chord/melody intro, he extends a bar of Gmaj7 into two with a series of triads over a G drone, a favorite arranging technique of his (Ex. 2). Notice how he instead uses a G7 tonality in order to segue to the approaching Cm7. Note that this passage is again made possible by the use of his fretting-hand thumb on the 6th string.
Kessel’s facility with chord voicings is certainly not uncommon among jazz greats, but he had various Kessel-isms that he’d frequently draw upon in his playing. No lesson about Kessel would be complete without the minor 7th chord move in Ex. 3. Notice how he climbs up and down various extensions along the way—the 9 (E) and 11 (G)—before briefly shifting up a half-step to dramatic effect. You’ll find this figure can be applied in all sorts of situations where minor 7th chords appear, and Kessel uses it quite a bit.
Bend It Like Barney
A rock ’n’ roll-style blues lick in a jazz lesson may be a surprise, but let’s look at how Kessel effectively made this a part of his arsenal like few others of his day. In Ex. 4 he launches into a tasty blues lick over a classic IIIm–VI–IIm–V turnaround in the key of G major. While primarily drawing from the G blues scale (G–A–Bb–C–Db–D–F), he also includes a few notes from the G major scale (G–A–B–C–D–E–F#), most notably in the initial bend. Give this phrase a whirl, even if you’ve played these sorts of blues licks before. Remember, it’s how and where he’s using it that makes it so effective.
And, hey, when’s the last time you saw a jazz guitarist break a string while bending? As you’ll see in the following video, Kessel sure did…
… and it didn’t faze him one bit. It’s worth noting that as a member of the Wrecking Crew, the legendary group of first-call session musicians, he played on many popular songs throughout the 1960s (including an appearance on the classic Beach Boys’ album Pet Sounds). So, he was hip to what was going on at the time, and was involved in all sorts of musical situations outside of jazz.
Nifty Lines
Kessel was a master of improvisation, crafting lightning-quick jazz lines on the fly. Here’s one which occurs just after the above blues phrase (Ex. 5). Sure, it’s a common approach in jazz to anticipate a chord before it arrives, but here Kessel uses just about the entire second measure to foreshadow the Fm7 before it ultimately makes its entrance in measure three. His left hand doesn’t appear in the video, but you do get a close-up view of his use of sweep picking.
Kessel would also fearlessly venture into harmonizing his lines, most often using major and minor thirds. In Ex. 6 he begins with a quick ascending figure; then, for the descending figure which follows, be sure to use only your first and second fretting-hand figures on the high two strings, as he does, to keep the fingering nice and smooth.
In addition, Kessel deftly wove lines in between chords to build excitement. During the tune’s free-time intro, he adds some beautiful legato flourishes (Ex. 7).
Not surprisingly, Kessel was quite creative when fashioning endings for his arrangements, and this tune is no exception. After a slick fretting-hand thumb slide, he careens through a series of chromatically descending chordal stabs. Then, true to form, he ends with that very same thumb fretting the two lowest strings of the final chord (Ex. 8).
Wait— No Rig Rundown?!
Of course, like most jazzers of the day, Kessel simply plugged his guitar directly into an amp — in his case, a Gibson BR–3. But his guitar was rather unique — a modified Gibson ES–350 from 1946. So we’ll give BK the last word, as he gives you the inside scoop on his favorite axe.
There’s so much more that goes into building a pedal—but you do need to get your workstation in order first.
Think that price tag on that pedal is a bit high? There’s a lot more that goes into it than just what’s in the box.
The inspiration for this topic comes from a recent video published by JHS Pedals. The video consists of Josh Scott giving an honest breakdown and rebuttal to a video posted to YouTube by John Nathan Cordy. In Cordy’s clip, he disassembles a JHS pedal while asking if the general consumer is getting “ripped off” because the cost of the parts isn’t very exorbitant. (Cordy later issued an apology.) I’ve often lived by the motto, “You’re not paying for the parts; you’re paying for how they’re put together.” So, what goes into making a pedal, and are they overpriced? There’s a lot to cover, so let’s dig in.
It can be easy for a consumer to get bogged down by the cost of the end product in relation to the value of raw materials. This is made even more evident given that we have access to the value of the raw materials. A quick web search for a Fuzz Face schematic, followed by some research on where to purchase those components, along with their value, might leave you scratching your head as to why a boutique manufacturer might be selling a Fuzz Face-style pedal for $199 and up. I’d immediately point out that your head isn’t the only thing that we’ve scratched in this example—we’ve only scratched the surface of the cost.
Let’s say I’m a contractor, and you want me to put up a fence on your property, and I buy $100 worth of wood and nails and put it up in 10 hours. Is that job worth $100? No. I don’t think anyone reading this would think that. People understand costs when they go past the tangible. We’re talking about labor. The very thing that employees are reimbursed for. That’s still not the aspect that I think the common consumer struggles to grasp. I think that they have a disconnect when it comes to the ancillary. In this example, it would be the cost of the tools, the insurance and fuel for the work truck, and the advertising cost for the page where you found the contractor in the first place. Let’s bring this back to pedals and unpack this a little bit more.
I’m going to attempt to outline bringing a pedal to life, from the inception of the idea to the selling of the final product—all while trying to expose the costs that I think people forget or simply don’t know about. I feel like a magician right now. “I’m going to attempt to make 15 buses appear on this skyscraper. All while hanging upside down and blindfolded.” Anyway, let’s give it a try.
“You’re not paying for the parts; you’re paying for how they’re put together.”
We know that the cost of the parts for a fuzz pedal is on the low side. Residing here in America (and for me in New England), we know that labor costs are on the higher side. But let’s keep digging up and exposing those forgotten or unknown running costs. After the idea of making the product, it starts with having the space to design and work on it. That would be rent, business insurance, liability insurance if there are employees, and common utilities bills. You need a bench to work at with adequate lighting, storage for the parts, and the parts themselves. These parts are only in our possession after hours of research on which parts we want to use. This includes specs like tolerance, material construction, component size, lead pitch, voltage ratings, and so on. But let’s not jump the gun. We need to order a variety of parts so that we can assemble the circuit on a breadboard, test it, make changes and additions, and record the results onto a schematic. That is, of course, after we purchase and learn how to work on a breadboard, and connect it to an instrument and amplifier. Then we need to learn how to read and write in the language that is electronics schematics. This is something that 95 percent of pedalbuilders learn on their own. So there’s no formal education cost here, but it’s hours and hours of learning.
Let’s say we’ve made it this far and we know what we want to use in the fuzz circuit. Next, we order the parts (most likely from several suppliers and pay separate shipping costs for all). Once they arrive, we stock them in their appropriate locations. Now we’ve arrived at a big step: turning what we have on the breadboard and schematic into a circuit board that mates with an enclosure. Oh, dear!
Join me for part two as I break down the next steps in this journey from idea to final product—and final price.
Light and very comfortable to play. Creative tonal options. Excellent hardware.
P-90s may be too hot or bright for some. Middle pickup not as articulate as expected—and surprisingly difficult to activate on the fly.
$1,229
Vola Guitars JZ FRO
volaguitars.com
Pro hardware, unusual circuit tweaks, and killer playability lend new twists to the P-90 solidbody template.
For nearly 10 years, Vola Guitars' Japan-made instruments stood out for their somewhat unorthodox features, quality execution, visual vibes that walk the line between traditional and modern, and mid-level prices that rival industry heavyweights. In the company’s varied line of 6- and 7-string guitars (and 4- and 5-string basses), the JZ FRO is more on the traditional end. Yet it still stakes out its own territory in terms of style and performance.
Subtle Upgrades
Vola’s most distinctive aesthetic feature is undoubtedly the bodyline scoop/flourish near the rear strap button. On the JZ FRO, it lends a dash of elegance and sophistication to an outline that might otherwise seem too literally Jazzmaster-like, while the handsome roasted maple neck, swooped reverse headstock, and nonstandard pickup scheme help make it clear this isn’t your average offset. It’s a classy, understated look even in the model’s flashier aged-copper and shell-pink hues. But look closer and you’ll note appointments that a lot of seasoned guitarists will appreciate, including Luminlay position markers, stainless steel frets, and a direct-to-output circuit bypass switch situated between the volume and tone knobs.
Slicing and Then Some
It’s not often you see a solidbody outfitted with a pair of humbucker-sized P-90s anda Strat-style middle pickup. The P-90s are alnico 5 units measuring 9.5k and 10.5k ohms resistance. To avail you of this circuit’s numerous tones the JZ FRO incorporates a deceptively simple-looking control array. There’s a lone tone knob, a traditional 3-way selector, and a master volume that pulls up to bring the S-style middle pickup into the mix. In this mode, with the pickup selector down, you get the bridge and middle pickup, in the middle you get all three pickups, and in the up position you get the neck and middle pickups. (More on mid-pickup tones in a minute.)
The P-90s are pretty hot, with a lot of punch and zing. In fact, the bridge pickup’s leanness and the neck pickup’s gristliness sometimes evoke Gibson P-100s.
With the JZ FRO routed through a Celestion Ruby-outfitted 6973-powered combo set to a bit of grind, I loved the bridge pickup’s tough airiness. There’s a detailed, vintage-esque character, and it gets toothier as you pair it with a boost or dirt pedal to drive an amp hard. Compared to the vintage-spec Curtis Novak P-90s in my Les Paul Special, the Vola’s bridge pickup is a little less warm and brawny, but also probably a bit more malleable and adaptable to different genres, especially if you’ve got a lot of effects in your signal path. The neck pickup is similarly powerful, though its contrasts with a traditionally voiced P-90 feel less apparent.
How about that middle pickup? Paired with the bridge unit, it yields funky, Strat-like quack—a tone you’re not going to get with most dual P-90 guitars. Accent them with a wiggle of the super smooth-operating Gotoh trem, and the Strat allusion is even stronger. Mind you, all this tone variation is available beforeyou activate the tone-circuit bypass. It acts like a powerful onboard boost: Everything is louder, hotter, and leaner.The Verdict
Vola deserves big kudos for packing so many unique features into a guitar that feels and plays this nicely at such a reasonable price. The novel tone-circuit bypass could help you cut through a dense mix or boost your solo even when you’re away from your pedalboard. That said, in some positions I found it sounded a little strident or hi-fi, and the fact that the circuit-bypass mode renders the volume knob useless makes it something of an all-or-nothing proposition. The added middle pickup expands tonal possibilities beyond P-90 norms, but don’t expect the same type of added clarity you’d get from a Strat’s middle pickup. Even so, the JZ FRO’s exceptionally smooth performing hardware and excellent craftsmanship make playing a breeze and a pleasure, and its VFP90 pickups pack a mix of power, clarity, and flexibility that make it a great choice for biting rock and thick, bristling blues tones.
Tighten up your rhythm playing by focusing on how to get a great sound, balancing your wrist and elbow, and understanding how to subdivide rhythms.
Nile Rodgers brings the rhythm at Bonnaroo 2018.
How the rhythm-playing hitmaker behind Chic—and our columnist—learned to love pop music, and why maybe you should, too.
When Nile Rodgers speaks, we should listen. His seminal work with his own band, Chic, as well as Sister Sledge, Michael Jackson, Mick Jagger, Eric Clapton, Peter Gabriel, Madonna, David Bowie, and Daft Punk, has made him a legend. He also filmed an entertaining Rig Rundown with PG just last year.
I recently listened to his 2017 South by Southwest address, where he told a story about a formative moment in his life. Nile was complaining to his guitar teacher, Ted Dunbar, about having to sing the Archies’ “Sugar, Sugar”at an upcoming cover band gig. Dunbar replied, “Let me tell you something. Any song that sells and gets to the Top 40 ... is a great composition.” Rodgers was skeptical. Then Dunbar added, “Especially ‘Sugar, Sugar.’ That has been No. 1 for four or five weeks.” Next, Dunbar said something that changed Rodger’s life. “‘Sugar, Sugar’ was successful,” he said, “because it speaks to the souls of a million strangers.” Rodgers noted: “Two weeks later, I wrote a song called ‘Everybody Dance.’” Released in 1977, it was a Top 40 single on Chic's first album.
In a BBC This Cultural Life interview, Rodgers said that Dunbar “described an artist to me. I wasn’t an artist until he defined that. I wanted to speak to the souls of a million strangers, but I thought what I wanted to do was speak to some real cool people hanging out in jazz clubs.”
“Everybody Dance” and “Sugar, Sugar”both have hypnotizingly simple lyrics you inevitably replay in your head. Humans like chants, cheers, slogans, and catchy choruses. Rodgers' success came, at least in part, from opening himself up to simplicity that appeals to the masses instead of the complexity that appeals to jazzers. That’s the irony. Jazz, which ostensibly is all about freedom, is often restrictive. Like the old joke goes, jazzers play millions of chords for four people. Pop, rock, and country artists play four chords for millions of people.
Rodgers said, “That's what my teacher taught me, that anti-snobbery. Be open. Love all the music you are around, or at least try and appreciate what that artist is trying to say. Try and have, what we call in the music business, big ears.”
My friends and I have all, at times, been music snobs. I went through a blues binge in my youth where I was prejudiced against shredders. This was not uncommon at the time. After Nirvana hit with Nevermind in 1991, suddenly musicians were openly mocked for playing complex, difficult parts. It was almost like if you cared enough to really learn to play guitar, you were uncool. That was a big relief for me, as I could play neither complex nor difficult parts at the time.
“Taylor Swift is the Beatles of my daughter’s generation.”
Later, when I moved to Nashville, I was all about clean Telecasters and thought ill of music with lots of dirt or effects. Younger me would have plenty of condescending quips about my current love of overdriven humbuckers and delay. Most of my snobbery was driven by my deep insecurities, but part of it was tribalism. The heart wants what it wants; when you find your musical tribe, most of the young zealots trade all others for their one true religion. It might be the only way to get good at something.
On the other hand, my friends and I listen to a variety of music, but the common factor is it usually involves good guitar playing. We love what we love because it speaks to our souls. But most guitar players are drawn to those who are doing what we wish we could do. My uncle Fred used to say, “There’s nothing wrong with being a snob. It just means that you have good taste.”
Between club dates, sessions, and the occasional TV gig, I play with tons of people. I have no say in the set list, so “Sugar, Sugar” moments are unavoidable. I used to feel deep shame playing those types of songs, like it reflects poorly on my personal taste or abilities. In short, I was prejudiced until I saw all of the true pros who could find something beautiful, challenging in the seemingly mundane. It’s like the old actor’s adage: There are no small parts, just small players.
According to Forbes, Taylor Swift was “The Biggest Artist in the World in 2023.” That being the case, her songs inevitably come up on cover gigs. When this happens, some musicians might groan, like it makes them cool to hate on pop culture. But that’s probably because they don't really know her work. Taylor Swift is my 8-year-old daughter’s Alexa go-to, so I know Taylor’s catalog really well. Turns out, it’s amazing, full of truly catchy, engaging, touching songs. Taylor Swift is the Beatles of my daughter’s generation. Snobs will think that statement is heresy, but snobs often don’t know what they are talking about, and they never have as much fun as the people who are dancing violently to “Shake It Off,” or singing with eyes closed to “All Too Well.”
