Introducing the Martin M-6 and M-7 Johnny Marr signature guitars, featuring a unique seven-string configuration to honor Marr's sound.
The standout feature of the Martin M-7 is its unique seven-string configuration, adding an octave G string to the mix. This design delivers Marr’s unmistakable jangle, making it perfect for replicating the lush, intricate sounds of his most iconic tracks. Also available as a standard six-string model, the M-6, and designed in close collaboration with Marr, these guitars feature a genuine mahogany neck with a full-thickness profile and slightly thinner width at the nut for a unique feel, allowing for fluid transitions and complex chord structures.
Wide like a Jumbo with the thickness of a 000, its Grand Auditorium (0000/M) body size ensures plenty of comfort and projection while offering a precise distinction between the treble and bass. Equipped with LR Baggs Anthem electronics, these guitars ensure your sound is perfectly captured on stage or in the studio with volume, mix, mic level, and phase controls.
“I've now got my own signature guitar that makes me sound like in the studio when I've put this really great old compressor on it with a great mic and a little hint of the high string in there,” says Marr. “All of these things that I do on record using a few guitars, I've all got it in the one guitar that I can carry around with me, and if I go play with a pal or go and guest with someone, I sound like me.”
Marr’s history with Martin guitars is storied – his beloved 1971 D-28 has been the backbone of several classic Smiths songs, including “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out” and “Cemetry Gates.” The M-6 and M-7 pay homage to that legacy while ushering in a new era of sonic possibilities. A hardshell case and exclusive Souldier™ strap are included.
For more information, please visit martinguitar.com.
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It’s almost over, but there’s still time to win! Enter Stompboxtober Day 30 for your shot at today’s pedal from SoloDallas!
The Schaffer Replica: Storm
The Schaffer Replica Storm is an all-analog combination of Optical Limiter+Harmonic Clipping Circuit+EQ Expansion+Boost+Line Buffer derived from a 70s wireless unit AC/DC and others used as an effect. Over 50 pros use this unique device to achieve percussive attack, copious harmonics and singing sustain.
Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine is one of the loudest guitarists around. And he puts his volume to work creating mythical tones that have captured so many of our imaginations, including our special shoegaze correspondent, guitarist and pedal-maestro Andy Pitcher, who is our guest today.
My Bloody Valentine has a short discography made up of just a few albums and EPs that span decades. Meticulous as he seems to be, Shields creates texture out of his layers of tracks and loops and fuzz throughout, creating a music that needs to be felt as much as it needs to be heard.
We go to the ultimate source as Billy Corgan leaves us a message about how it felt to hear those sounds in the pre-internet days, when rather than pull up a YouTube clip, your imagination would have to guide you toward a tone.
But not everyone is an MBV fan, so this conversation is part superfan hype and part debate. We can all agree Kevin Shields is a guitarists you should know, but we can’t all agree what to do with that information.
This episode is sponsored by Fender.
Learn more: https://www.fender.com./
He’ll forever be remembered for his unparalleled mastery of the Telecaster, but Roy Buchanan kept an open mind when it came to his guitars.
Perhaps you’ve read something where an artist or a brand is dubbed “authentic.” It’s marketing hype that’s both real and manufactured, but I assure you it can be both a legit and important concept. The problem is when it gets used in the first person. Who judges whether something is authentic or not? Critics? Magazines? The internet? A brand itself? What does it mean to you? We often refer to things as the “real deal,” so is that the same? Not exactly.
The real deal can be something that is what it purports to be—like a working cowboy. But if you see his hat brand in a store in New York, is that authentic? If you think this is splitting hairs, you might be right. We’d like to think that when we choose a guitar to play, our desire for playability and sound is at the forefront of the decision-making process, and mostly it is. But that blacked-out, pointy axe with the studded strap just won’t fly in your bro-country cover band, so you glom onto a paisley Telecaster, even though it doesn’t feel as good to you. Does this make you authentic? Personally, I’d love to see some chicken pickin’ on that pointy fiddle. Busting down barriers and breaking rules is the spirit of expression and creativity, and that’s authentic.
There’s no shame in honoring tradition and nodding in reverence to your influences, but you don’t have to bow down so low that you can’t be yourself, too. I used to think I was a “Gibson guy.” To a large extent, I still am, but many of you know my love of the Strat and Tele. My music room is full of other brands that I adore and use for certain applications. I believe that you have to use an instrument, effect, or amplifier to get what you need for the situation you’re in, no matter what the social connotation is.
“If Roy freaking Buchannan can rock out on a Les Paul or a Hamer Standard, you can break some rules, too.”
One night in the late 1970s, I answered the phone at the Hamer Guitars factory, mostly to see who on Earth would call at that late hour. To my surprise it was Roy Buchanan, the original master of the Telecaster. He wanted to chat about our Sunburst model that was fairly new to the market. His questions revolved around scale length, fretboard width, fret size, and weight. When I asked why he was interested in our guitar when he was known for playing Telecasters, he told me that he already had one of our Explorer-shaped Standard model guitars! I found this even more puzzling than the fact that Roy Buchanan had cold-called our office at night. Roy went on to say that in the studio he used a lot of different guitars, including a Les Paul with P-90s that he liked a lot. He used the Tele onstage, he said, “because people expect me to do all those Telecaster things.” He didn’t ask me to ship him a guitar for free or inquire about an artist discount. He said he’d check one out at a dealer. I recommended one near him, and we said goodnight. I began to wonder if it was a crank call.
I’d forgotten the whole episode until recently, when I saw a newspaper photograph of Roy Buchanan with his young daughter, Jennifer. I thought about how happy they looked and how sad it was that his death had stolen that little girl’s father from her. And right there in that photo, he’s playing that Hamer Standard. I’m not gonna lie and say that I didn’t cry.
So there it is, folks. If Roy freaking Buchanan can rock out on a Les Paul or a Hamer Standard, you can break some rules, too. I’m certain that he was most comfortable onstage with that beat-up old Tele, but it wasn’t his only love. It’s just the one that people think of when they imagine the authentic guy.
Songwriters often say they strive for connection through authenticity in their music and lyrics. And at the very core, that’s what it’s about—human connection. If you love that cowboy hat and live in Philadelphia, I’m not going to criticize you—just go ahead and wear it, dude. It’s about wearing the hat for its intended purpose, not putting it on to hope it makes you authentic.
On this Wong Notes, the legendary Doobie Brother, Steely Dan member, and session weapon talks the science of music and how to defuse conflict—whether on the world stage or in the sound booth.
“Skunk” Baxter has had an interesting career. The Washington, D.C.-born musician was one of Steely Dan’s founding members in the early 1970s, and played on some of their most iconic numbers, like Can’t Buy a Thrill’s’ “Reelin’ in the Years” and “Do It Again,” or Pretzel Logic’s “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.” Then, he moved on to join the Doobie Brothers, from roughly 1974 to 1979, where he fatefully invited Michael McDonald into the band. After that stint, he became a go-to session player for artists like Rod Stewart, Joni Mitchell, Dolly Parton, and Donna Summer, and a touring performer for Elton John and Linda Ronstadt, among others.
That was just the beginning. Baxter’s interest and background in electronics, science, and recording technology gained him a position in the U.S. defense industry. Turns out, a lot of digital music gear shared similar principles with emergent defense tech. “Basically, a radar is just an electric guitar on steroids,” says Baxter, noting the same four fundamental forces at work over everything in our universe.
Wong and Baxter trades notes on how to navigate studio sessions (“Just shut the hell up,” offers Baxter), early conversions of pitch into digital signals, and how Baxter cut his solo on Donna Summer’s “Hot Stuff” on a $25 guitar. And can mediating between artists and producers feel like high-stakes hostage negotiations? Sometimes. Tune in.