Strymon's Brig dBucket organic delay is designed to be a simple-yet-flexible pedal that offers classic “bucket brigade” analog delay sounds.
The sound of analog bucket brigade delays (BBDs) is classic for a reason, offering warm tones and a distinctive and organic gooey-ness to the repeats that is unlike any other kind of circuit design. The new Brig dBucket Delay pedal from Strymon recreates all of the signature behavior that these classic chips deliver while offering greater flexibility, power, and performance - you really can play the repeats like an instrument.
Brig offers three different BBD voices accessible by a 3-way toggle switch (labeled 3205, 3005, and Multi)based on different types of classic bucket brigade circuits, offering you everything from gritty repeats and sci-fi psychedelia to soft and dreamlike soundscapes you can float on top of. Warm bucket brigade modulation gives your repeats exciting movement, and at the shortest delay times works as a killer standalone BB chorus pedal too!
The Brig pedal also offers a Filter control knob that allows you to shape the tone of repeats with an enhanced degree of creativity and precision.
Add in full stereo i/o, TRS MIDI, 300 presets, USB C for DAW MIDI control and firmware updates, a discrete JFET analog input circuit for unrivaled feel and touch response, and seamless tap temp behavior that allows you both artifact-free tempo tapping or bucket brigade chaos when you tweak the Time knob, and you have a seriously powerful BBD workstation in a compact form factor.
Brig carries a $259 street price.
- Three distinct bucket brigade voicings based upon classic BBD circuit configurations.
- Unique Filter control for shaping the tone of the repeats.
- Premium discrete stereo JFET analog input circuit for exceptional feel and touch response.
- TRS MIDI/Expression jack for external control via expression pedal or TRS MIDI.
- Full MIDI integration - 300 onboard presets, real-time parameter control, and more.
- Full stereo inputs and outputs via TRS jacks.
- Mono-to-mono, Mono-to-stereo and Stereo-to-stereo operation.
- Artifact-free tap tempo.
- USB C for DAW MIDI control and firmware updates.
Strymon Brig dBucket Delay
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A rig meant to inspire! That’s Jerry Garcia with his Doug Irwin-built Tiger guitar, in front of his Twin Reverb + McIntosh + JBL amp rig.
“I met Jerry Garcia once, in 1992, at the bar at the Ritz Carlton in New York,” Dark Star Orchestra guitarist Jeff Mattson tells me over the phone. Nearly sixty-seven years old, Mattson is one of the longest-running members of the Grateful Dead tribute band scene, which encompasses hundreds of groups worldwide. The guitarist is old enough to have lived through most of the arc ofthe actual Grateful Dead’s career. As a young teen, he first absorbed their music by borrowing their seminal records, American Beauty and Workingman’s Dead, brand new then, from his local library to spin on his turntable. Around that same moment, he started studying jazz guitar. Between 1973 and 1995, Mattson saw the Dead play live hundreds of times, formed the landmark jam bandZen Tricksters, and later stepped into theJerry Garcia lead guitarist role with the Dark Star Orchestra (DSO), one of the leading Dead tribute acts.
“At the bar, I didn’t even tellGarcia I was a guitar player,” Mattson explains. “I had just heard him play the new song ‘Days Between’ and I told him how excited I was by it, and he told me he was excited too. It wasn’t that long of a conversation, but I got to shake his hand and tell him how much his music meant to me. It’s a very sweet memory.”
The Grateful Dead’s final studio album was 1989’sBuilt to Last, and that title was prophetic. From 1965 to 1995, the band combined psychedelic rock with folk, blues, country, jazz, and even touches of prog rock and funk, placing a premium on improvisation and pushing into their own unique musical spaces. Along the way, they earned a reputation that placed them among the greatest American bands in rock ’n’ roll history—to many, the ultimate. Although no one member was more important than another, the heart and soul of the ensemble was Garcia. After his death in 1995, the surviving members retired the name the Grateful Dead.
“I think Jerry Garcia was the most creative guitarist of the 20th century because he had the widest ears and the sharpest instincts,” opines historian, author, and official Grateful Dead biographer Dennis McNally, over the phone. “What we see after his death are the Deadheads coming to terms with his passing but indicating that it’s the music that was most important to them. And who plays the music now becomes simply a matter of taste.”
Dark Star Orchestra guitarist Jeff Mattson, seen here with Garcia’s Alligator Stratocaster (yes, the real one).
Photo by Susana Millman
This year marks 30 years since Garcia’s passing and 60 years since the band formed in the San Francisco Bay Area. Today, the guitarist’s musical vocabulary and unique, personal tone manifests in new generations of players. Perhaps the most visible of these musicians is John Mayer, anointed as Garcia’s “replacement” in Dead and Co. But dozens of others, like Mattson, Tom Hamilton Jr., and a young new artist named Bella Rayne, strive to keep the Dead alive.
The first few Grateful Dead tribute bands began emerging in local dive bars by the late ’70s. More than mere cover bands, these groups devoted themselves entirely to playing the Dead. A few of these early groups eventually toured the country, playing in college towns, ski resorts, and small theatres across the United States. Mattson started one on Long Island, New York. He tells me, “The first band I was in that played exclusively Grateful Dead was Wild Oats. It was 1977, and we played local bars. Then, in 1979, I joined a band called the Volunteers. We also played almost exclusively the Grateful Dead, and that was a much more professional outfit—we had a good PA and lights and a truck, the whole nine yards.” The Volunteers eventually morphed into the Zen Tricksters.
Garcia’s death turbocharged the Dead tribute band landscape. Fanbases grew, and some bands reached the point where big-time agents booked them into blue-chip venues like Red Rocks and the Beacon Theatre. Summer festivals devoted to these bands evolved.
“The first band I was in that played exclusively Grateful Dead was Wild Oats. It was 1977, and we played local bars.” —Jeff Mattson
Dark Star Orchestra launched in 1997, and they do something particular, taking an individual show from somewhere out of Grateful Dead history and recreating that evening’s setlist. It’s musically and sonically challenging. They try to use era-specific gear, so on any given night, they may be playing through recreations of the Grateful Dead’s backline from 1971 or 1981, for example. It all depends on the show they choose to present. Mattson joined DSO as its lead guitar player in 2009.
Something else significant happened after Jerry died: The remaining living members of the Grateful Dead and other musicians from Garcia’s inner circle embraced the tribute scene, inviting musicians steeped in their music to step up and sit in with them. For Mattson, it’s meant playing over the years with all the core members of the band, Phil Lesh, Bob Weir, Bill Kreutzmann, and Mickey Hart, plus former members Donna Jean Godchaux, who sang in the band from 1971 to 1979, and Tom Constanten, who played keyboards with the Dead from 1968 to 1970.
Tom Hamilton’s Lotto custom built had a Doug Irwin-inspired upper horn.
In the newest post-Garcia tribute bands, many guitar players aren’t old enough to have seen Garcia perform live—or if they did, it was towards the end of his life and career. One of those guys sitting today at the top of the Garcia pyramid, along with Mattson, is Tom Hamilton Jr. Growing up in a musical family in Philadelphia, Hamilton saw Garcia play live only three times. Early on, he was influenced by Stevie Ray Vaughan, but Hamilton’s older brother, who was also a guitar player, loved the Dead and Garcia. “My brother wanted to play like Jerry,” he recalls, “so he roped me in because he needed me to play ‘Bob Weir’ and be his rhythm guitar sidekick.” Eventually, Hamilton leaned more into the Jerry role himself. “Then I spent my entire twenties trying to develop my own voice as a songwriter and as a guitar player. And I did,” Hamilton says. “And during that time, I met Joe Russo. He was not so much into the Dead then, but he knew I was.”
A drummer from Brooklyn, by about 2006, Russo found himself collaborating on projects with members of Phish and Ween. That put him on the radar of Lesh and Weir, who invited Russo to be a part of their post-Dead project Furthur in 2009. (And on guitar, they chose DSO founding member John Kadlecik, opening that role up for Mattson.)
“When Joe played in Furthur, he got under the hood of the Grateful Dead’s music and started to understand how special it was,” Hamilton points out. “After Furthur wound down, we decided to form JRAD. We weren’t trying to do something academic, not some note-for-note recreation. We were coming at it through the pure joy of the songs, and the fact that the five of us in JRAD were improvisers ourselves.”
“We were coming at it through the pure joy of the songs, and the fact that the five of us in JRAD were improvisers ourselves.” —Tom Hamilton Jr.
Today, Joe Russo’s Almost Dead (JRAD) is considered to be one of the premier Grateful Dead tribute bands. They formed in 2013, with Hamilton and Scott Metzger as the band’s guitar frontline, with Hamilton handling Garcia’s vocal roles. Eventually, Hamilton, too, found himself jamming onstage with the ever-evolving Phil Lesh and Friends. That, of course, further enmeshed him in the scene, and in 2015, he started a band with Dead drummer Bill Kreutzmann calledBilly and the Kids.
Now, there’s a new kid on the block, literally. Bella Rayne recently turned 18 and grew up in Mendocino, California. Her parents were into the Dead, but even they were too young to have really followed the original band around the country. At her age, they were big into Phish. By the pandemic, Bella started embracing the guitar out of boredom, woodshedding while social distancing in quarantine. She explains, “Like any other teen, I was bored out of my mind looking for anything to do.” Rummaging through her garage, she came across her mom’s old Strat. “At the time, I was really into ’90s Seattle grunge. I put new strings on the Strat, and then I tried to teach myself Pearl Jam songs, and I learned how to play them by watching YouTube videos. Then, I started posting videos of my journey online as I became more serious about it. I hit a point where I knew it would be my thing. The next thing I knew, one of the Bay Area Dead bands [China Dolls] reached out to me and asked me to sit in. I thought, ‘no way.’“My parents are huge Deadheads,” she continues. “That’s theirthing. I grew up with the Dead being pushed on me my whole life. But I ended up going, and it’s just been this awesome spiral ever since.” Bella calls her current Dead-related project Bella Rayne and Friends, and she, too, has been recognized not only by the new generation of Garcia players in the Dead tribute bands, but also by Melvin Seals, the Hammond organist who played for years in theJerry Garcia Band. “I was hired to just sit-in for a couple of numbers withMelvin and his JGB band,” she recalls, “and we were having so much fun he said to me, ‘Why don’t you just sit in for the whole second set.’ It was an amazing night.”
Bella Rayne with her Alligator-inspired Strat, with a JGB Cats Under the Starssticker on the body.
Photo by Sean Reiter
Jerry Garcia played many different guitars. But for those guitarists wanting to emulate Garcia’s tone, the focus is on four instruments in particular. One is a1955 Fender Stratocaster known as “Alligator,” which Garcia had heavily modified and began playing in 1971. The other three guitars were hand built in Northern California by luthier Doug Irwin: Wolf, Tiger, and Rosebud. Garcia introduced them in 1973, 1979, and 1989, respectively. Sometimes, in a jam-band version of being knighted by the Excalibur sword, a chosen member of this next generation of Dead players is handed one of Garcia’s personal guitars to play onstage for a few songs or even an entire set.
Although they started their journeys at different times and in separate ways, Mattson, Hamilton, and Rayne all have “knighthood” in common. Rayne remembers, “In March of 2024, I was sitting in one night with anall-girl Dead tribute band called the China Dolls, and no one had told me that Jerry’s actual 1955 Strat, Alligator, was there that evening. My friend [roots musician] Alex Jordan handed me the guitar unannounced. It’s something I’ll never forget.”What’s it like to strap on one of Jerry Garcia’s iconic instruments? Tom Hamilton recalls, “It wasRed Rocks in 2017, and I played with Bob Weir, Melvin Seals, and JGB at a tribute show for Jerry’s 75th birthday. I got to play both Wolf and Tiger that night. I was in my head with it for about one song, but then you sort of have a job to do. But I do recall that we were playing the song ‘Deal.’ I have a [DigiTech] Whammy pedal that has a two-octave pitch raise on it, real high gain that gives me a lot of sustain, and it’s a trick I use that really peaks a jam. That night, while I am doing it, I had the thought of, ‘Wow, I can’t believe I am doing this trick of mine on Garcia’s guitar.’ Jerry would have thought what I was doing was the greatest thing in the world or the absolute worst, but either way, I’m cool with it!”
“I was sitting in one night with an all-girl Dead tribute band called the China Dolls, and no one had told me that Jerry’s actual 1955 Strat, Alligator, was there that evening. My friend [roots musician] Alex Jordan handed me the guitar unannounced. It’s something I’ll never forget.” —Bella Rayne
Jeff Mattson has played Alligator, Wolf, Garcia’s Travis Bean 500, and his Martin D-28. He sums it up this way: “I used to have posters up in my childhood bedroom of Garcia playing his Alligator guitar. I would stare at those images all the time. And sowhen I got a chance to play it and plug it in, suddenly there were those distinctive tones. Those guitars of his all have a certain mojo. It’s so great to play those guitars that you have to stop in the moment and remind yourself to take a mental picture, so it doesn’t just fly by. It’s just a tremendous pleasure and an honor. I never imagined I would get to play four of Jerry Garcia’s guitars.”
With young people like Bella Rayne dedicating herself at the tender age of 18 to keeping the Dead’s music going, it feels like what the band called their “long strange trip” will keep rolling down the tracks and far over the horizon. “People will be listening to the Grateful Dead in one hundred years the same way they will be listening to John Coltrane, too,” predicts McNally. “Improvisational music is like jumping off a cliff. Sometimes you fly, and sometimes you land on the rocks. When you take that risk, there’s an opportunity for magic to happen. And that will always appeal to a certain segment of people who don’t want predictability in the music they listen to. The Grateful Dead is for people who want complete craziness in their music—sometimes leading to disaster and oftentimes leading to something wonderful. It’s music for people who want to be surprised.”
The 1929 Gibson L-5 Andy Fairweather Low plays on Invisible Bluesman was a gift from Eric Clapton and was previously owned by J.J. Cale.
Forget about tangents, dovetails, and hairpin turns when conversing with Fairweather Low. They come with the territory. “My dad liked Lonnie Donegan,” he recalls of the British skiffle king, “and he brought ‘Putting on the Style’ into the house, and ‘Does Your Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor’ and ‘My Old Man’s a Dustman,’ which he was. ‘Rock Island Line’ was Lonnie’s only hit in America. I got to play with him later on, with Van Morrison. I also got to play with the Chieftains and Van, and I toured with [English jazz bandleader] Chris Barber. We played on Jools Holland’s show. That was an honor. Georgie Fame was in Van’s band when I was, and I’ve been in the Blue Flames [Fame’s group], and Georgie’s been on two of my albums. He covered ‘Wide-Eyed and Legless,’” a 1975 hit for Fairweather Low.
Despite that patter, he’s not a name-dropper; he’s just talking about his life. A life that has included teen-idol status fronting Amen Corner, the subsequent band Fair Weather and solo albums, inactivity, and then a second career as elite sideman and session guitarist with Roger Waters, Eric Clapton, George Harrison, Bill Wyman, David Crosby, Bob Dylan, Stevie Nicks, Dave Edmunds, Richard Thompson, the Who, Joe Satriani, Kate Bush, the Gaddabouts (with Steve Gadd, Edie Brickell, and Pino Palladino), Kevin Brown, B.B. King, Ringo Starr, Tom Jones, Bonnie Raitt, Mick Fleetwood, John Mayall, Procol Harum, and the inevitable “others.” His songs have been covered by Elton John, Thelma Houston, Joe Cocker, Richie Havens, and Three Dog Night. He even jammed, albeit clumsily, with Jimi Hendrix and later provided background vocals on Hendrix’s remake of “Stone Free.”
SoundStream
These days his band, the Low Riders, is Andy’s main priority. Previously, he has named Donegan, Harrison, Keith Richards, Hank Marvin, Ry Cooder, Albert King, Leon Redbone, Jimmie Vaughan, Blind Blake, and Rev. Gary Davis as favorite 6-stringers. In the following interview, he reveals his biggest 6-string influence, and exposes himself as an unrepentant guitar junkie.
You cut a number one blues album.
Two years ago I did an album, Flang Dang, where I played everything except the drums, and that to me was my full stop. I took a third of my pension out to make that album. Got no result whatsoever, so I figured I’m just going to enjoy playing live. Then Malcolm Mills, the head of Last Music Company, said, “People don’t know enough about your blues playing. We should do an album and call it The Invisible Bluesman.” On “My Baby Left Me,” obviously there’s a big tip of the hat to Robert Johnson—sort of “Kind Hearted Woman.” This is the strangest feeling. I’ve been sort of throwing about in the water, playing these songs for 20 years. All of a sudden I’m number one.
What is the old Gibson on the cover?
That is J.J. Cale’s guitar [a 1929 L-5] that he gave to Eric. I’m doing the B.B. King pose, from the old picture with his foot on a stool. I asked Eric if I could borrow that guitar, and he said, “Of course you can.” I loved J.J.’s Shelter records in the ’70s. Such an exciting time. He was in a box all his own.
Fairweather Low patched this guitar with gaffer’s tape when it fell before a gig, then he got it repaired. While it no longer has a crack, he applied the tape again after he discovered it makes the instrument sound darker.
Andy Fairweather Low’s Gear
Guitars
- 1929 Gibson L-5 (borrowed from Eric Clapton; previously owned by J.J. Cale)
- Knight Arena
- Three Eric Clapton Signature Strats with custom pickup arrays
- Black Strat w/one humbucker (rear)
- Knight Arena single-cutaway
- Supro Ozark with a lap-steel pickup
- Teisco Spectrum 5
- Vox Phantom w/gold-foil pickups (neck and middle) and a P-90 (bridge)
- Red Strat w/three humbuckers and parts from an
- Two Airline Res-O-Glas models
- Silverstone electric w/three pickups
- Guild S-200
- Danelectro bass
- Danelectro baritone
- Gibson Chet Atkins CE
- Ramirez classical
- Black Gibson L-5
- Martin Eric Clapton Signature Model OOO
Amps
- Cornell
- 2x10 cab w/Jensen speakers
Strings
- Flat wounds
How did you decide which guitar you were going to play on which song?
On “Bright Lights, Big City” and “Gin House Blues,” I have to play the Strat with the humbucker. I’ve got a white one and a black one. On “So Glad You’re Mine,” another Big Boy Crudup song that Elvis did, I played a Knight Arena guitar. It’s made by a father and son, Gordon and Robert Wells, and it’s fabulous. When I play “Gin House,” its wire-wound strings on the Strat, but everything else is flat-wounds.
You were 15 when you saw the Rolling Stones in Cardiff.
February 28, 1964. Bill Wyman’s coffee table book has the dates and set lists. It wasn’t like a great big hand came down or finger pointing in any direction. It just seeped through the air, like a virus, and all of a sudden I wanted to play guitar. Their version of “Route 66” was the first guitar solo I learned note for note.
Did you go specifically to see them?
They were just on the bill. Also on the bill was Jet Harris, who was with Shadows’ bassist. Mike Sarne and Billie Davis were top of the bill, and there was Bern Elliott & the Fenmen. The Stones started with “I’m Talking About You.” It never leaves you. The first time I saw the Who play, in 1965, or the Stones again, in ’66, playing with Inez and Charlie Foxx… those moments. I saw Sam & Dave, Arthur Conley, Eddie Floyd, and Otis Redding at Finsbury Park, on the [1967] Stax tour. People like Booker T. & the MG’s were so far away. Come to think of it, they’re still that far away. I talk a lot about early guitarists, and in truth it’s got to be Steve Cropper. He’s got the biggest depth in what I do. “Don’t Mess With Cupid,” “Ninety-Nine and a Half,” “Soul Dressing,” “Bootleg”—there’s loads of them. And definitely his rhythm playing on the Wilson Pickett version of “Don’t Fight It.” He was perfect.
What was the Amen Corner tour like with the Jimi Hendrix Experience, the Move, Pink Floyd, and the Nice?
Onstage, I say, “I played with Jimi Hendrix”—and I did. Then I follow it with, “I played very badly with him.” He sidled over to me at 3 in the morning and told me, “You’re in the wrong key.”
“Jimi, I don’t have a clue what key you’re in.”
This was 1967. He wanted to play with Amen Corner, doing “I Can’t Turn You Loose.” We were just a very young soul band at the time. So he borrowed Clive Taylor’s bass, flipped it over, and I sang it.
A couple of months later, we had a residency at a club, and he decided he wanted to get up and play guitar. He took Neil Jones’ guitar, and [hums muted opening to “Voodoo Child”]. I knew Clive wasn’t going to be able to play, so I played bass. I moved around the neck a lot, figuring at some point I’m going to hit the appropriate key. Don’t write in telling me it’s in E; I know that—or Eb if it was on Jimi’s guitar.
Fairweather Low has his Vox Phantom rigged with two gold-foil pickups and a P-90.
U.K. charts were different from American charts. Amen Corner’s “Gin House” was No. 3 in 1967, and “Albatross” by Fleetwood Mac was No. 1 in 1968.
It was pretty wide and varied. When we did the 1967 Windsor Jazz & Blues Festival, it was the first time Fleetwood Mac played. At one point, we were the highest paid act. We got rumors of this band Fleetwood Mac getting paid nearly as much as us. We thought, “That can’t be happening. They’re not on the charts.” But “Albatross”—what a record! I got to play that at the Peter Green memorial show at the Palladium, with David Gilmour on steel. Rick Vito was fabulous. He was definitely the most valuable player in that whole setup. I told [producer] Glyn Johns, “You’ve got to get him.” If anybody needed to be anybody who wasn’t there, he was it.
Glyn Johns produced the Joe Satriani album you’re on.
The big connection is Glyn. That was an interesting time. When Joe was interviewed, the first question they asked was, “Why Andy Fairweather Low?” Which is the first thing I’d ask. I can’t think as fast as he can play. But I had a few tonal things. His demos were so good, like “Luminous Flesh Giants.” He was very gracious to me. Joe had previously produced everything he’d done, and wasn’t used to this setup. Every day he’d make a beeline for me and show me what to play. “Use this finger, don’t use that finger.” By the time we got to 7 p.m., I had a headache. Then Glyn would say, “Joe, the reason these boys are here . . . why don’t you just let them play?” Then we’d play, and we’d get the track. The next day it was the same thing. I think Joe was struggling with letting go of the reins, allowing himself to go down this road. I’m glad. I had a great time.
I played a Supro Ozark with a lap steel pickup on one track. I sold it and a couple of other guitars. I was going to sell a bunch of them. When the guy came back and kept offering more for my black L-5, I went, “I’m done.” Not selling any more. I didn’t realize the attachment that I would have for those things.
You’ve got some oddball guitars.
Because I saw video of Ry Cooder at Sweetwater, playing a Teisco Spectrum 5, I eventually got one. He makes it sound like a bloody piano! The thing about Ry Cooder—whether it’s Gabby Pahinui, the Buena Vista Social Club, or that Jazz album—whatever you think of him, it’s the tip of the iceberg. You’re not even getting one-eighth of what’s below. On the Mambo Sinuendo album, with Cuban guitarist Manuel Galbán, there’s a version of “Secret Love.” The tone on his guitar!
There was a benefit concert for a fabulous guy called Fred Walecki, who had Westwood Music in L.A., and I was onstage with Ry. Definitely other side of the stage, because there are a few guitarists who don’t need another guitar player. Ry is one, Jeff Beck’s another one, and Pete Townshend is. I found out when I played with the Who. Pete wasn’t there because he was cleaning out in America. For three weeks with Kenney, John, and Roger, I sort of filled in, just to be a guitar player in the room. Then Pete came back, and we went through the first day of playing together. What anyone will realize is that when Pete plays an A chord, there’s nobody in the world that can make it any bigger. There was no point in playing when he was playing. I went into the control room and told him, “I think I’ll go off and play some tennis.” I did his Psychoderelict tour in 1993. Tricky, but fond memories of that.“I played with Jimi Hendrix. I played very badly with him.”
What’s going on with the Vox Phantom with gold-foil pickups?
I was doing this concert in Santa Monica for Fred Walecki, who had throat cancer. Ry had a guitar with those pickups, and said he got them from Fred. The next day I went to Fred, who only had two: $15 each. They’re now in the neck and middle on that Vox, and there’s a P-90 in the bridge position. I play “Pipeline” on it, for that ’60s tone.
I got an Airline, known as the J.B. Hutto model, for $750. But I struggled to make it work, intonation-wise. Gordon and Robert [Wells], who made my Knight guitar, took all the electronics out of that and put them into a pink Strat, with all the knobs. But I’m a one-tone man. Everything up, one position, leave it. On the J.J. Cale song “Can’t Let You Do It” from Eric’s I Still Do album, I’m playing that Strat with the Airline parts.
Much to his surprise, Fairweather Low’s new album hit the top of the U.K. blues and jazz chart, despite being a low-key, off-the-cuff affair in the studio.
In terms of session work, did you ever get thrown any curve balls?
Two times. I was doing something with Glyn at Olympic Studios, and in the other studio was Georgie Fame with a big band. He said, “Why don’t you come in and do the session?” It was, “Alright, fellas, letter B four bars in….” All I did was look at the other guitar player, Bernie Allen, and watch what he did. I realized I was way out of my depth. I got through it, but only because I watched him.
The next time, working with Glyn again, it was with Linda Ronstadt. We finished the album on Friday, and she was going in on Monday with George Massenburg to do something with Aaron Neville. She asked if I’d stick around and do something. I said, “Yeah, let me see what you’re going to do.” The first song I could get my head around, “Please Remember Me”—only playing rhythm. The second one was a Jimmy Webb song, where no chord was ever any chord that I had any idea existed. If it was a D, it had an F#; if it was C, it had an E. I spent the whole weekend trying to make my sense of these chords. We get into the studio, and I’m in the booth strumming away on “Please Remember Me.” Then I’m wondering what we’re going to do now. Before I could raise my hand and say, “I’ve got to tell you, I can’t do this,” they said, “You know what? We’re not going to do that song.” [laughs] But I was right on the edge, in front of everybody, gonna have to go, “It’s too much for me.”
“You can be the greatest musician in the world, but if you’re a pain in the ass on the gig, you won’t last.”
How did you end up backing George Harrison, and playing slide?
Roger Forrester, who was Eric’s manager, called and said, “George is going to Japan; Eric’s band is going to back him, and George wants you to do all the intricate slide parts.” “Okay, I’ll think about it.” I put the phone down and realized I don’t play slide. I had met George backstage at a Ry Cooder show; he must have assumed I was into slide playing. Things were not going great financially, and this was a life-changing moment. So I had to make a decision. I either turn up, and they all realize I can’t do it, or I own up now and risk losing the gig.
I asked Roger for George’s number, and I rang him up. I said, “I know this tour’s coming up, and you want me to do the slide parts, but I don’t play slide. I mean, if you tell me what you want me to do, I know the principles and all that, but I can never seem to make it sing.” He said, “I’ve never heard you play, but everybody seems to like you. Why don’t you just come up to the house?” I turn up at Friar Park with my Volkswagen Polo, and he comes out to meet me and looks at my car … because George is a big car guy. He goes, “Do you have to drive that?” [laughs] We got on really well, lots of jokes. Living in the Material World I knew inside and out. My bass playing is based on Klaus Voormann on that album, so melodic. George said, “Let’s do something.” “Material World,” I knew it; I could sing the slide solo. Little did I know I was going to have to learn that thing; plus I had to play “My Sweet Lord.”
“You do the intro.”
“No, George, you’re the slide player.”
So I had to wear this intro that everybody knows, and you better play it right. It’s a bit like the front of “Layla,” which I might have to play as well. We were doing “My Sweet Lord” one night in Japan and I forgot to press the pedal that makes the guitar audible. There was a towel on top of my amp, and I just put it on my head. One of those rock & roll moments.
Andy Fairweather Low is a legend of the British stage and studio, having played with Eric Clapton, Pete Townshend, David Gilmour, and a host of other 6-string greats.
George’s slide style is so distinctive. But there are videos of that tour, and you nailed his sound really well.
Thank you. At the Concert For George, it was a Friday, and Joe Brown was going to do “That’s the Way It Goes.” Typical of Eric, he said, “Andy’ll do it.” I think the show was on Tuesday or something. I got away with it, but I didn’t sleep. George’s solos, you have to know them before you even play them. It’s as simple as that. In fact, that applies to Robert Johnson or whatever you’re learning. When I’d finished “That’s the Way It Goes,” Eric comes onstage and says, “You’re sweating a bit.” I said, “I am, for goodness sake. You should have done this.”
Didn’t George play slide melodies up and down the length of the string, rather than across?
Which I did. I got to play Rocky [Harrison’s psychedelic painted Strat], the 6-string bass that’s on “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” and his [Fender] 12-string on Concert For George. Olivia Harrison allowed Rocky to be played on the rehearsals and the concert, but it had to go back to Friar Park every night.
What’s the big archtop you’re playing on Eric Clapton’s Unplugged?
It’s a Super 300 that Alan Rogan lent to me. The Martin I played was Eric’s; best sounding Martin I ever played. The only guitar I owned was the one that’s on “Tears in Heaven”—a Ramirez classical that I still have.
“I played with the Big Town Playboys for about 16 months. We did a tour of Europe, got back from Germany, and they gave me my check. Thirteen pounds [laughs]. It was worth it, man, so exciting.”
Tell me about the Martin you play onstage that’s held together with gaffers tape.
That’s an Eric Signature Model OOO. We were opening up for him in Poland, and it fell out the back of the van, in its case. Got some gaffers tape and taped it back together, and when I played it that night everyone, including me, thought it sounded better. Back in England, I had it fixed, but I didn’t like it. So I put the tape back on. Eric likes a really bright guitar. Mine takes a bit of that top end off, so it’s warmer.
What’s your main amp?
It’s a Cornell based on the Fender Vibro-King. I started off with a Bandmaster, and moved on to the Bassman with four 10s, and then the Vibro-King with three 10s. Bit by bit, no matter how many times you replaced the valves, replaced the speakers, polished the circuits, they just got tired. They never sounded as good as the day you bought it. Denis Cornell came to a gig and said, “Show me what you want.” I turned up the Vibro-King to about 4, which was enough to sound dirty. He said, “Are you serious?” I said, “Yes, I want you to make me an inefficient amp.” Now I’m down to two 10s, which is basically a Tremolux cabinet. “TV Mama” on Lockdown Live [from 2021] starts with that growl. Get it out there. Frighten them!
After years of sideman gigs, you formed the Low Riders.
You can be the greatest musician in the world, but if you’re a pain in the ass on the gig, you won’t last. Everybody in the band gets along really well. It’s a cooperative. The roadie gets exactly the same as me. Because when the gig is over, I’m sitting down having a glass of wine; he’s packing away and driving us somewhere. He’s worth as much as I am.
I played with the Big Town Playboys for about 16 months. Ian Jennings and Mike Sanchez are top players. We did a tour of Europe, got back from Germany, and they gave me my check. Thirteen pounds [laughs]. It was worth it, man, so exciting. I’m proud of being in that band. I did a live double-album with them, Off the Clock.
I’m lucky. And I know it, too. I can’t see this round-peg of me fitting into any hole of anything that’s going on now. I’m glad I had my time when I did. I loved working with those people, but I quit touring because I just needed to play more.
