On the band’s third album, Heartless, the Arkansas rockers use smartly layered and effects-tweaked tones, new axes, big melodies, and tighter songwriting to cut through doom’s sonic fog.
Metal, more than any other type of music, is overrun with labels and subgenres. Some are derived from a sound, like speed metal (Motörhead and Accept) or groove metal (Pantera and Sepultura). Others are based on where a band is from, like Norwegian black metal (Mayhem and Immortal) or Kawaii metal (Babymetal). And then there’s odd-timed mathcore (Converge and the Dillinger Escape Plan) and glam-metal (the terrain of legends Mötley Crüe). These labels are great for shorthand musical descriptions in the blistering-fast information age, but some bands are too fluid for shallow, rigid tags. Enter Pallbearer.
The Arkansas-based quartet crashed the metal party with their rumbling, doom-heavy 2012 debut, Sorrow and Extinction. That first salvo showcased a healthy dose of dynamics and melody—such as in the brooding, 12-minute “Foreigner”—by incorporating soaring guitar harmonies and acoustic intros not often associated with such a dark, indomitable sound.
“We’ve never been an ‘amp worship’ doom band that hammers on the same note or riff for minutes,” explains guitarist Devin Holt.
Produced by Billy Anderson, who’s cut tracks with Sleep, Neurosis, Melvins, and more, Pallbearer’s second release, 2014’s Foundations of Burden, displayed an even greater expansion of their sonic textures. The addition of cleaner, more present vocals, ambient passages and sections with piano, and doses of spelunking reverb helped provide a musical narrative flow that was compelling, evocative, and more coherent. (Also, as you’ll read later, Anderson showed the guys how to properly layer their dense guitar tracks for more air.)
Now Heartless is the band’s latest voyage, and it finds them still moving mountains with volume and refusing to be stagnant—resulting in their most expressive, powerful work. Growth and experimentation are evident in spots like the title track, which colorfully sprawls into a jazzy drum break (think French prog-rockers Magma) before careening back to full force at the song’s midpoint with a slightly out-of-phase, swirling guitar solo. On “Cruel Road,” Pallbearer cranks its tempo up to Judas Priest speed. But perk up, doomers! The album is packed with plenty of thunderous riffing, like the epic center of the symphonically rich “Dancing in Madness” and the twin guitar harmonies that propel “I Saw the End.” Although the group’s name is derived from a role indelibly linked to the ominousness of death, Heartless shows a band that’s never sounded more alive.
“A collection of songs like this is indicative of where we are as musicians and people, because this is our most diverse and complex album,” asserts guitarist-singer Brett Campbell. “Performance-wise and lyrically, we could not have made this album two or three years ago.”
PG recently spoke with Campbell and Holt at their homes, before the group headed out on tour. They detailed how Arkansas plays into their sound, how their guitar work on Heartless saw a role reversal, and what piece of gear Campbell can’t live without—but would never endorse.
What was it like recording your new album at home in Arkansas?
BrettCampbell: Just being comfortable gave us an added edge. The last time we recorded in Portland with Billy Anderson, we stayed in the studio where they had no bed, no showers, and I used a large block of sound-dampening foam as my mattress [laughs], which was actually okay to sleep on. Having the ability to break out for the day, grab a beer with a friend, and just decompress at home allowed us to be more focused. Which was great, because this material is really intricate and complex, so we had to be on it day in and day out. And on top of that, we saved money by not having to eat out for every meal or get a hotel, so that afforded us more studio time for working out parts. We even upgraded some of our gear.
DevinHolt: Our last album felt like a month-long repetition of Groundhog Day [laughs]. We basically worked 12- to 16-hour days and never left the studio except to eat. It was grueling and daunting—not to mention we ran into technical issues losing tracks or portions of songs. That was frustrating!
The band used the guitar-texturing tricks they learned from producer Billy Anderson when they decided to self-produce their new album, Heartless, at home in Arkansas.
Speaking of your homeland, how does Arkansas itself, the terrain and the region’s music scene, play into your sound?
Campbell: The attitude here is positive, and that fosters a feeling of mutual respect and freedom to chase interesting ideas and sounds. A pillar of the Arkansas metal scene with bands like Rwake [pronounced: wake—silent “R”], Deadbird, and Shitfire is how they all took the standard blues groove in sludge and doom and basically shot it into this acid nightmare. That proved to us we could do things our own way, too. As a burgeoning artist or guitarist, you always want to create your own thing or sound, but it can be intimidating seeing everyone and everything that came before. The lengths those bands took to make their creativity push the envelope showed me what it means to be fearless and determined.
Holt: Honestly, being from Arkansas might be one of the biggest influences or reflections of this band. Arkansas and even Little Rock are these killer, well-kept secrets that I selfishly don’t want anyone to know about [laughs] … because it’s affordable to live here, we have a booming arts scene, the music community is growing, but we’re all tight and supportive across all genres.
We grew up and cut our musical teeth at this Little Rock club called Downtown Music that really embraced metal and heavy bands, so we got to see and share bills with tons of groups. When we formed Pallbearer, Rwake’s [former] guitarist Chuck Schaaf played with us, so the tight-knit community and willingness to work together on several projects is what makes Little Rock’s metal vibe small-but-mighty. Arkansas is definitely intertwined sonically in all its bands.
Devin, how would you describe that Arkansas sound?
Holt: It’s a dirty, heavy, redneck psychedelic vibe not really felt or heard anywhere else. It’s basically like you had too many hallucinogenic drugs, but not like clean or pure ones like mushrooms or acid where you feel a higher consciousness. I’m talking about drinking too much Robitussin, going outside and spotting a light in the woods that confuses you in an eerie, haunting way, yet you can’t help walking towards it, because it feels comforting. And that’s the Arkansas metal scene [laughs].
When going into the studio to cut Heartless, one goal was creating an album with sounds that could be generated by the band live. Hence, bassist Joe Rowland and Campbell occasionally swap off on keyboards.
Photo by David Medeiros
How did you come up with that brutal opening riff for “Thorns?”
Campbell: It was written as an experiment when I was at my parents’ house hanging out with my sister and we started talking about songwriting. I explained that you can write a heavy song on an acoustic, because it’s not about volume and distortion. It’s about attitude and feeling. So to prove my point, I grabbed my dad’s standard-tuned acoustic and just randomly played the notes that are the song’s opening riff. While I continued to bullshit with her, I came up with the second part and I knew I was onto something. Before I knew it, all the instrumentation—including drums, adding guitar distortion, and singing scratch vocals on GarageBand—was written for “Thorns” in less than 3 hours, which is extremely fast for me. That was definitely the fastest song I’ve written for Pallbearer.
“I Saw the End” and “Thorns” clock in at under 7 minutes, which is short for you guys. Was there a premeditated goal to do that?
Campbell: It might sound counterintuitive, but I really challenged myself to come up with some ideas that implemented the Pallbearer sound, but in a condensed, fully thought-out package. With our slower pace, it’s actually pretty easy to write a song that comes out over 10 minutes, so I definitely tried to come up with a song or two that were much shorter than what people are used to, but still retains our vibe and has our core elements.
sounds like that.” —Brett Campbell
And the main guitar riff and harmony for our new album’s first single, “I Saw the End,” was written during the time period of our debut album, Sorrow and Extinction, but we fleshed out a few more of the song’s sections during rehearsals. The story felt complete with all the Pallbearer elements, so we included it in this cycle. When I went online to see people’s reaction to the song, a lot of comments were, “Pallbearer is going in a new direction and they’ve really changed their sound.” I laughed to myself because a lot of that song, at least guitar-wise, is based on an idea 6-plus-years old.
And then, on the flipside, there’s “A Plea for Understanding.” How do you go about building a seamless 13-minute giant like that?
Campbell: Lots and lots of editing, rearranging, and patience [laughs]. The first, slow riff that starts off “A Plea for Understanding” was one of Devin’s ideas. I was just blown away by it so we kept watering that idea. That intro riff really inspired me, so I went on a writing tangent for that song because I wanted to be a part of it. It originally was closer to 20 minutes, but we always try to keep our songs as succinct as possible. Even if it ends up being really long, we try to avoid having it go on for days just because we can. That sort of songwriting is just lazy and boring to me.
The long, sweeping epics are actually in my wheelhouse because those linear songs are what I’ve written since I started playing music. I look at those big songs like a puzzle. I start with this idea and I want to end up at a completely different spot and vibe. The fun part as a songwriter is figuring out how you’re going to connect the beginning that sounds like this to the end that sounds like that. My goal is to make everything flow, feel musical, and be a song without making parts or sections that are easily distinguishable just because it’s a different riff.
Brett Campbell’s Gear
GuitarsPRS S2 Vela (recently stolen) PRS SE 277 Baritone 1978 Gibson Les Paul Custom (borrowed from PG contributor Jordan Wagner) 1980s Peavey Predator
Amps
Mesa/Boogie Mark IV
Ampeg 4x12 loaded with 150-watt Eminence Swamp Thangs
Fender Pro Twin
Effects
EarthQuaker Devices Hoof fuzz
EarthQuaker Devices Arrows preamp/booster
EarthQuaker Devices Afterneath reverb
EarthQuaker Devices Tone Job EQ/boost
EarthQuaker Devices Levitation reverb
EarthQuaker Devices Avalanche Run stereo delay
Strymon Ola dBucket Chorus & Vibrato
Smallsound/Bigsound Hawk Fuzz
Boss ME-50B Bass Multi-Effects
Black Arts Toneworks Black Forest overdrive
Catalinbread Naga Viper treble booster
LDP Nu-Tron II phaser
ZVEX Lo-Fi Junky chorus/vibrato/modulation
Synths/Keyboards
Dave Smith Instruments Mopho x4
Dave Smith Instruments Tetra
Roland JD-Xi
Strings and Picks
Stringjoy (various gauges)
Dunlop .60 mm picks
Devin, much of “A Plea for Understanding” is based on a riff that’s sort of outside your normal mode of operation, since you’re the band’s “shredder.” Where did that come from?
Holt: After the big keyboard break in “A Plea for Understanding,” there’s a David Gilmour-y solo
that normally would be reserved for Brett, but he wrote the key parts so we were jamming it out. I just messed around and winged a solo so we’d have something to listen to during playback. Brett and the rest of the band liked my version so much that we ultimately recorded my parts for that solo
in his song.
Are you both trying to work on things you
don’t do well or the other member seemingly does better?
Holt: When our first album came out, I wasn’t really serious about it. I mean, I’m a dude from Arkansas and nobody makes it, so I was still focusing on school, part-time jobs, and just took this band more as a hobby than a real career. A few years ago, I realized that we might not be a huge band, but we could certainly do this and not have to work any crap jobs on the side, so I knuckled down and starting taking lessons in jazz, and studying theory and chord shapes, and
getting really into comping and improvising. And now I’ve been teaching guitar and I’ve actually learned quite a bit and refined a lot of my
technique just because a lot of my focus with younger students is on the basics and fundamentals. I think the best way to get better overall, at anything, is to tackle the things you’re not as good at or don’t like as much because you can incorporate what you learn into things you’re already good at.
Campbell: It’s great to see how our playing styles have influenced each other. We just opened it up this time and each took stabs at solos that
normally would be reserved for the other guy. Sometimes it worked out like it had in the past, and sometimes he would outshine me—like the beginning of “Dancing in Madness” is all Devin. I don’t think he could’ve played that solo a few years ago, but he totally nailed it. Just like forcing myself to write shorter, full-on Pallbearer songs, I wanted to improve on my playing in areas where I’m lacking, like shredding or chaos solos. If you don’t ever challenge yourself or try something new, you’re never going to get any better. Going outside your comfort zone and routine leads to some interesting sources of inspiration.
Devin is such a clean player, so it used to make sense he tackled the faster, more technical solos. I wouldn’t say I’m sloppy, but I’m more into playing solos with bends and slides with a liquid feel to them. I generally approach solos or guitar parts as if they were played by a synthesizer, where you can have glide effects that let you sustain a note and have it melt into the next one.
What did you learn from working with Billy Anderson?
Campbell: He showed us his system of recording dirty-cleans, which are very lightly distorted guitar tones that you mix in with the heavier, more distorted parts. You can really hear a difference in how our complex chords and tight picking ring out so much clearer on Foundations than it did on Sorrow. We found out quickly that if you’re using gobs of distortion and then you’re layering those tracks, note definition is lost and your tone is muddy and murky. I’ve always EQ’d our amps for recording to have one track that accentuates the low-end, and then another layer that was more midrange focused. Billy showed us the third layer to the equation and that’s using slightly distorted, treble-rich tones to brighten the high end, add clarity and sparkle, and make our notes stand out and sing more. It’s like one track was Judas Priest, another was early AC/DC, and the one for bass used Joe Rowland’s Verellen Meatsmoke, and that’s just for the low-end power.
Holt: Another thing he was on top of was tuning. You wouldn’t think how much a hassle one out-of-tune guitar track could be, but he suggested we use heavier strings than we’re used to and really pay attention to our guitars and make sure everything was tuned before we hit “record” every time.
Devin Holt has historically been the group’s shredder, but for Heartless, he and Campbell traded roles on several numbers. “The best way to get better overall, at anything, is to tackle the things you’re not as good at,” he observes.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/Tinnitus Photography
Did you use mainly your touring rig to record?
Campbell: Yeah. It makes sense to use what you have because that is what people will see and hear live. Most of my guitar tones were recorded with my two PRS guitars—an S2 Vela and SE 277 Baritone—into my Mesa/Boogie Mark IV through this old Ampeg 4x12 cabinet that has really high headroom. I also used my Fender Pro Twin that reminds me of an old Sunn Model T. In a live setting where I can’t constantly be EQ-ing things, I have the Mesa dialed for the mids with an emphasis on lows, and then I use the Pro with some mids and then dial in the high-end treble for more clarity. We used our touring pedalboards, too.
Some of my favorite recorded leads and guitar tones are in “Lie of Survival.” I was lucky enough to get my hands on our friend [and PG contributor] Jordan Wagner’s 1978 Gibson Les Paul Custom silverburst for a few days. It has these old Tom Anderson humbuckers that just bark.
Holt: We definitely had a conversation about this very thing when we were deciding when and where to record. I felt that staying here and doing it in Arkansas would allow us to actually buy long-lasting, quality gear since we’d be saving money in our budget from not traveling, eating out every meal, or having to ship gear and equipment. I got a Rockerverb MKIII, Joe got his custom-made Verellen Meatsmoke, and Brett is loving his new Mesa/Boogie Mark IV, all thanks to financial planning [laughs]. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to fiddle around in the studio and find cool sounds with gear the producer has or the studio owns, but what’s the point if you can’t recreate that part or sound?
Devin, you score any other new gear?
Holt: I recorded with some ESP 6-string baritones I’ve had a bit, but I got my hands on ESP’s 7-string baritones that I will be using on the spring and summer tours. The reason for the change to 7-string is because I wanted to challenge myself and it solved a problem I had, because I teach guitar lessons in standard tuning. So when I pick up a new trick or technique, and I want to apply it, I always have to mentally transpose it to baritone tuning, which isn’t that far off, but you don’t want to be in that calculated of a headspace when you’re jamming or improvising onstage. Switching to the 7-string allowed me to have a full standard-scale guitar, but then I still have the low seventh string that helps me go into Pallbearer-rhythm mode. And I tune it to A–E–A–D–G–B–E and Brett tunes to dropped-A, which is A–E–A–D–F#–B.
Also, my friend Alex Avedissian, out of Atlanta, has been building pickups for High on Fire, Iron Witch—he’s basically becoming the underground pickup maker for heavy bands. So I tried out a set of his custom-wound Railsplitter humbuckers that are tweaked for more power. I think the neck is going after a Classic ’57 tone and the bridge is tight and crispy.
Brett, you’ve been a longtime user of the Boss ME-50B, which is designed for bass. Why do you prefer that to the numerous guitar-specific units?
Campbell: I’m on my third one now, and I got my first one from a friend in 2007 because he hated how it sounded. At the time, I was playing in a noise-rock band and a lot of the effects and parameters on the 50B lent it to being a powerful tool in that context. I used it so much in that project that it kind of became my sound.
Devin Holt’s Gear
GuitarsESP LTD AW-7Bs with custom Avedissian pickups
Amps
Orange Rockerverb 100 MKIII
Orange Rockerverb 100 MKII
Orange PPC412 4x12 cabinet
Orange PPC212 2x12 cabinet w/Jensen Electric Lightning speakers
Effects
Boss TU-3
Strymon Zuma power supply
Strymon Ojai power supply
Strymon Ola dBucket Chorus & Vibrato
Strymon El Capistan dTape Echo
Strymon BigSky reverb
Ernie Ball VP JR Volume Pedal
Orange Two Stroke Boost/EQ
EarthQuaker Devices the Warden optical compressor
EarthQuaker Devices Gray Channel overdrive
EarthQuaker Devices Avalanche Run stereo delay
Mr. Black GilaMondo phaser
Dunlop CBM95 Cry Baby Mini Wah
Strings and Picks
Stringjoy Custom Baritone sets (.010, .014, .018, .028, .040, .052, .070)
Dunlop Tortex Sharp .73 mm picks
Couch guitar straps
I really like how the wah and whammy are voiced. The resonance setting is a big asset because it’s a secondary wah sound I like. It acts like a low-pass filter that sweeps on the higher registers. I like using the octave-up function for leads because it really helps pop out of the dense live mix. It
doesn’t track nearly as well with chords and it’s not a clean modulation, but I get this weird, glitchy splattering of shimmer that I really enjoy for “The Ghost I Used to Be.” Another thing it has is this chorus/delay setting that is my go-to solo echo effect, because it’s a warm, watery sound. That all being said for my sound and how it works for me, I do not recommend the pedal for guitarists [laughs]. Its idiosyncrasies work for me though.
Another new wrinkle I hear is revving up the tempos, like in “Cruel Road.”
Campbell: That song is our homage to Judas Priest and classic heavy metal. Recording the vocals was great fun, and it gave me a chance to channel my inner Halford [laughs]. It’s clearly at a faster tempo than we typically work in, which was somewhat challenging to make it still sound like
us, but I think it worked out in the end. I’m really pleased with my solo, because there is some bizarre shit happening. It sounds like a trade-off between me and Devin, but I did two different
takes on the same solo with vastly different guitar tones. With that, we used one guitar in the left channel for four measures and then switched to
the opposite guitar tone in the right channel. We did that back and forth a few times and it created this really disorienting effect, but also sounds really huge and thick. I love how the solo opens up with this guttural Godzilla roar [laughs].
Devin, I want to go back to your second album, Foundations of Burden, because I’m curious about the psychotic solo in the middle of “Watcher in the Dark.” What happened there?
Holt: Oh man, for that one I was playing my solo part as I intended through this long chain of pedals, and Brett and Joe were on the ground kicking on random pedals, turning knobs, and just causing mayhem at my feet [laughs]. Honestly, that was like a three-person solo because they were doing just as much as I was.
Why does the band like using unusual chord shapes?
Holt: A lot of doom bands really hang on and bang away with power chords or pentatonic things, but I think things sound fuller and more musical when we have a melody line going underneath the chord—normally the third moves the melody—and then there’s a lead on top of that, too. The key to the Pallbearer sound is our music is more powerful and fluid when we have a melody always pushing the song forward. We will use power chords, don’t get me wrong, but a lot of the times we’ll play off the sixth, seventh, or ninth. All the instruments in our band sing rather than get locked into that rhythmic pounding.
I honestly have more fun messing with modulation pedals, spacey reverb and delays, and playing clean tones than I do playing a heavy riff through raging amps. I know that’s not a very metal thing to say, but it’s true. We’re all huge fans of Yes and Pink Floyd, so it’s really just been a lifelong study of what David Gilmour was able to do in the studio and onstage. We definitely let our prog bleed through more than other doom or heavy bands.
YouTube It
“Thorns,” off Pallbearer’s new album Heartless, has grown from its humble acoustic-guitar-riff roots into a melodic, chug-powered, and artful slice of hard-to-classify power metal onstage, with big, harmonized guitar lines. Here, the band delivers the tune at the Howard Theatre in Washington, D.C., during an August 2016 show.
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.”
Big time processing power in a reverb that you can explore for a lifetime.
An astoundingly lush and versatile reverb of incredible depth and flexibility. New and older BigSky algorithms included. More elegant control layout and better screen.
It’s pricey and getting the full use out of it takes some time and effort.
$679
Strymon BigSky MX
strymon.net
Strymon calls the BigSky MX pedal “one reverb to rule them all.” Yep, that’s a riff on something we’ve heard before, but in this case it might be hard to argue. In updating what was already one of the market’s most comprehensive and versatile reverbs, Strymon has created a reverb pedal that will take some players a lifetime to fully explore. That process is likely to be tons of fun, too.
Grinding out impressive DSP power via an 800 MHz tri-core ARM processor with 32-bit floating-point processing, the BigSky MX introduces seven brand-new reverb algorithms, allows users to load any compatible convolution reverb (or impulse response) as well as to use two reverbs simultaneously—in series, parallel, and split—plus it delivers several other mind-bending features. Given this wealth of goodies, it’s impossible to test and discuss every sound and function, but what we heard is exciting.
Infinite Space
The updated MX will look very familiar to those who know the original BigSky. The form factor is nearly identical, though the MX is a bit larger. Its control interface is similar too, albeit rearranged into a single row of knobs that looks more balanced. Rotary controls include decay, pre-delay, tone, mod, parameter 1, parameter 2, and mix. A value knob enables effect-level manipulation on the larger, clearer OLED screen. It also allows you to select between the older or “classic” algorithms from the original BigSky and the seven new ones. Three footswitches allow for preset selection, bank up or down (two switches pressed together), and an infinite hold/sustain switch that’s always available. The rotary “type” knob in the upper-left corner spins between 12 basic reverb voices. As with most things Strymon, many of these controls are multi-function.
Also very Strymon-like are the top-mounted, 5-pin DIN MIDI I/O connections, which come in handy if you want to maximize the pedal’s potential in a MIDI-controlled rig. But you can access more than enough right from the pedal itself to satisfy the needs of most standard pedalboard-based setups. A USB-C port enables computer connection for MIDI control via that route, use of the Nixie 2 editing app, or firmware updates.
There are stereo jacks for both input and output, plus a multi-function 1/4" TRS/MIDI expression jack for use with a further range of external controllers. The standard center-negative power jack requires a DC supply offering at least 500 mA of current draw.
It is utterly hypnotic and addictive once you settle in and work a little more intuitively.
Sky’s the Limit
The BigSky MX was, initially, a bit mind-boggling on account of the seemingly endless possibilities. But it is utterly hypnotic and addictive once you settle in and work a little more intuitively. Suffice it to say, the core quality of the reverb sounds themselves are excellent, and the sheer variety is astounding. Beyond the standard emulations, I really dug several permutations of the cloud reverb, the chorale mode (which adds tenor and baritone harmonizing tones), and bloom mode (which generates deep synthesizer-style pads), and I could have gotten lost in any of these for hours if there wasn’t so much more to explore. Among the highlights: There is now an option to pan reverbs across the stereo field. The MX also uses audio design concepts borrowed from tape delays to create rhythmic pattern-based reverbs, which is an excellent compositional tool.
The Verdict
This latest evolution of the already impressive and super-capable BigSky is the kind of pedal that could cause you to disappear into your basement studio, never to return. The sounds are addictive and varied and can be configured in endless creative ways. The programmability and connectivity are also superb. Additionally, the new algorithms weren’t added at expense of the old BigSky algos. There’s no doubt that it will be flat-out too much horsepower for the guitarist that needs a few traditional sounds and, perhaps, a few more spacious options. And it would be interesting to know what percentage of the pedal’s customers end up being synth artists, engineers, or sound designers of one kind or another. If you’re the kind of guitar player that enjoys stretching the sound and capabilities of your instrument as far as they will go, the BlueSky MX will gladly ride along to the bounds of your imagination. It may test the bounds of your budget, too. But in many ways, the BigSky MX is as much a piece of outboard studio gear as a stompbox, and if you’re willing to invest the time, the BigSky MX has the goods to pay you back.
“The Player II Series represents our continued evolution in design and functionality,” said Justin Norvell, EVP of Product, FMIC. “We listened to the feedback from musicians around the world and incorporated their insights to refine and innovate our instruments. The re-introduction of rosewood fingerboards is a restoration of the ‘original Fender recipe’ and will no doubt be a fan favorite - but we didn’t want to stop there. We’ve also incorporated our rolled fingerboard edges for a broken-in feel, upgraded hardware, and have some new body options as well- which underscores our commitment to providing players and creators with the tools they need to express their unique sound and style. The Player II Series is not just an upgrade, it's a detailed re-imagining of our core silhouettes, highlighting our dedication to quality and the continuous refinement of our instruments.”
Additionally, Player II offers new options for chambered ash and chambered mahogany bodies for the Player II Stratocaster and Telecaster models, which will be available in October. Designed for musicians ready to elevate their craft, the Player II Series sets a new standard for quality and performance in the mid-price range.
Fender Player II Stratocaster HSS Electric Guitar - Coral Red
Player II Strat HSS RW, Coral RedFender Player II Jaguar Electric Guitar - Aquatone Blue
Player II Jaguar RF, Aquatone BlueThis reader solicited the help of his friend, luthier Dale Nielsen, to design the perfect guitar as a 40th-birthday gift to himself.
This is really about a guy in northern Minnesota named Dale Nielsen, who I met when I moved up there in 2008 and needed somebody to reglue the bridge on my beloved first guitar (a 1992 Charvel 625c, plywood special). Dale is a luthier in his spare time—a Fender certified, maker of jazz boxes.
Anyway, we became friends and I started working on him pretty early—my 40th birthday was approaching, and that meant it was time for us to start designing his first solidbody build. If you stopped on this page, it’s because the photo of the finished product caught your eye. Beautiful, right? The 2018 CCL Deco Custom: Never shall there be another.
Old National Glenwood guitars were my design inspiration, but I wanted a slim waist like a PRS and the like. We used a solid block of korina to start, routed like MacGyver to get the knobs and switches where I wanted them. Dale builds all his own lathes and machines (usually out of lumber, y’all), as the task requires. This beast took some creativity—it’s tight wiring under that custom-steel pickguard. Many were the preliminary sketches. Four coats of Pelham blue, 11 coats of nitro. Honduran mahogany neck, Madagascar ebony fretboard with Dale’s signature not-quite-Super-400 inlays. He designed the logo; I just said, “Make it art deco.”
We sourced all the bits and bobs from StewMac and Allparts and Reverb and the like, mostly to get that chrome look I so adore. Graph Tech Ratio tuners, Duesenberg Radiator trem (had to order that one from Germany), TonePros TP6R-C roller bridge. The pickups were a genius suggestion from the builder, Guitarfetish plug ’n’ play 1/8" solderless swappable, which means I have about 10 pickups in the case to choose from: rockabilly to metal. And both slots are tapped, with the tone knobs serving as single- to double-coil switches. I put the selector on the lower horn to accommodate my tendency to accidentally flip the thing on Les Pauls—definite lifesaver.
Reader and guitar enthusiast, Cody Lindsey.
Dale offered to chamber this monster, but I said what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. It weighs in at 11 pounds, if it’s an ounce. We carved the neck to match a ’60s SG, so it’s like the mini bat you get at the ballpark on little kids’ day. Easy peasy. 1 11/16" nut, 25" scale, jumbo frets, just 2 1/8" at the 12th fret.
Delivery in its lovely, hygrometer-equipped Cedar Creek case actually happened a month or two shy of my 41st, but hey, you can’t rush these things. We ended up with a studio Swiss Army knife; it does a bit of everything and does it effortlessly. A looker, too. Dale didn’t spend his career doing this kind of thing—he was in IT or some such—and I imagine he’s winding this “hobby” of his down these days, enjoying retirement with a bottle of Killian’s and a lawn chair at Duluth Blues Fest. But this guitar will live on as a marker of his skill and otherworldly patience. It sits at the head of the class in my practice room, welcoming any visitors and bringing a smile to my face every day. And Dale, my friend, I’ll be 50 before you know it....
Cody requested that Dale design an art deco logo for the guitar’s headstock.