Does mastery really matter when it comes to art?
In 2008, Malcolm Gladwell's book Outliers: The Story of Success debuted at No. 1 on The New York Times Best Seller list, clinging to that coveted slot for 11 consecutive weeks. If you were unlucky enough to be the child of a Tiger Mom during this time, you probably wasted 20 torturous hours every week practicing piano or violin. Today you're a disillusioned 12-year-old with no friends, limited social skills, and a deep-seated hatred for music. You probably spend the majority of your non-school time locked in your bedroom playing Call of Duty: Black Ops, while devouring cheese puffs and swilling room-temperature Mountain Dew. Thank you, Outliers, for ruining thousands of childhoods.
Gladwell bases much of his ill-conceived Outliers on the “10,000-Hour Rule" (borrowed largely from the work of Swedish psychologist Anders Ericsson). The rule, as you probably guessed, asserts that to master a given skill, you need to invest 10,000 hours of deliberate practice. Gladwell gives The Beatles as a prime example, and suggests that their incredible success could only have happened after they performed more than “1,200 gigs between 1960 and 1964" while in Hamburg, Germany. Gladwell ignores the fact that there were probably 100 bands in Europe working this same circuit of clubs, playing the same grueling schedule. If the “10,000-Hour Rule" were true, there would have been many bands equally as good as the Fab Four. Also, remember that Pete Best was the drummer for all of these gigs. It's hard to say why Pete got the sack, but George Martin claims that Best was not the best when it came to meter, so all of this practice did not make Best a master.
Like most oversimplifications, Gladwell's theory has elements of truth, but ultimately remains a lie. If it were as simple as putting in the time, most of us would be virtuosos. But honestly, I could practice for 20,000 hours and still not play as well as Tommy Emmanuel. Players like that are touched by the hand of God—or innately gifted, for you atheists out there. Granted, Tommy plays all the time and this constant playing helps him perform at his best, but what he does as an artist goes well beyond technical proficiency.
I'm a big fan of Carol Kaye, the famed bassist from the Wrecking Crew. In an interview she described a session early in her career where the leader said she'd been rushing on a track. She didn't believe it until she heard the playback. Once she was convinced she had meter issues, she went home and practiced for three days with a metronome. After that, Kaye recalled, “I had it."
is a cute little pop ditty.
Three days? I've spent 20 years practicing with a metronome and, truth be told, sometimes I'm on it, sometimes I'm not. Carol Kaye did not need 10,000 hours to master her instrument and—apparently—I need a whole lot more.
Does mastery really matter when it comes to art?
Since Gladwell brought it up, let's look at The Beatles again. This may sound like heresy to some, but The Beatles' early work just isn't that interesting. On their first two albums, Please Please Me and Meet the Beatles!, there's a 3 to 4 ratio of covers to originals. These albums contain some great songwriting, but these Beatle songs sound a bit formulaic compared to their later work. You can hear the influence of the covers they'd been slogging through during their club days.
Their music grew much more compelling when they quit playing so much and instead took time to think, experiment, and explore where music could go. Compare “All My Loving" to “A Day in the Life." The voices sound comparable, but that's where the similarities end. “A Day in the Life" is a great work of art; “All My Loving" is a cute little pop ditty. The Beatles were great because fate or good luck brought these four immensely talented kids together. Their chemistry just worked and they encouraged each other to become great musicians.
So for all you lazy musicians out there, here's a reason to rejoice: Practicing can hurt your playing. If you spend 10,000 hours playing with a bad drummer or relying on your own faulty meter rather than using a reference like a metronome, you will probably become a worse player, not a better player. If you practice the same patterns for hours and hours (scales, riffs, or whatever), your fingers will automatically repeat these patterns every time you pick up a guitar. You'll be able to execute these bits well, but who cares? It's going to be boring for you and your audience. Like Charlie Parker said, “Master your instrument, master the music, and then forget all that bullshit and just play."
You have to put in the hours to improve your playing, but excessive practice does not guarantee greatness. In fact, it can stifle creativity or reinforce bad habits. There's no telling how many hours I've put into music ... 30,000? 40,000? I've made some improvement and I've reinforced some bad habits. I've gained dexterity and had some carpal tunnel issues. I've improved my ear training and suffered some hearing loss. Sometimes I play well, sometimes I sound like I'm playing guitar with my toes. It's said “practice makes perfect," but we also say “nobody's perfect." I say “pobody's nerfect," so let's give ourselves a break.
Selenium, an alternative to silicon and germanium, helps make an overdrive of great nuance and delectable boost and low-gain overdrive tones.
Clever application of alternative materials that results in a simple, make-everything-sound-better boost and low-gain overdrive.
Might not have enough overdrive for some tastes (although that’s kind of the idea).
$240 street
Cusack Project 34 Selenium Rectifier Pre/Drive Pedal
cusackmusic.com
The term “selenium rectifier” might be Greek to most guitarists, but if it rings a bell with any vintage-amp enthusiasts that’s likely because you pulled one of these green, sugar-cube-sized components out of your amp’s tube-biasing network to replace it with a silicon diode.
That’s a long-winded way of saying that, just like silicon or germanium diodes—aka “rectifiers”—the lesser-seen selenium can also be used for gain stages in a preamp or drive pedal. Enter the new Project 34 Selenium Rectifier Pre/Drive from Michigan-based boutique maker Cusack, named after the element’s atomic number, of course.
An Ounce of Pre-Vention
As quirky as the Project 34 might seem, it’s not the first time that company founder Jon Cusack indulged his long-standing interest in the element. In 2021, he tested the waters with a small 20-unit run of the Screamer Fuzz Selenium pedal and has now tamed the stuff further to tap levels of gain running from pre-boost to light overdrive. Having used up his supply of selenium rectifiers on the fuzz run, however, Cusack had to search far and wide to find more before the Project 34 could launch.
“Today they are usually relegated to just a few larger industrial and military applications,” Cusack reports, “but after over a year of searching we finally located what we needed to make another pedal. While they are a very expensive component, they certainly do have a sound of their own.”
The control interface comprises gain, level, and a traditional bright-to-bassy tone knob, the range of which is increased exponentially by the 3-position contour switch: Up summons medium bass response, middle is flat response with no bass boost, and down is maximum bass boost. The soft-touch, non-latching footswitch taps a true-bypass on/off state, and power requires a standard center-negative 9V supply rated at for least 5 mA of current draw, but you can run the Project 34 on up to 18V DC.
Going Nuclear
Tested with a Telecaster and an ES-355 into a tweed Deluxe-style 1x12 combo and a 65 Amps London head and 2x12 cab, the Project 34 is a very natural-sounding low-gain overdrive with a dynamic response and just enough compression that it doesn’t flatten the touchy-feely pick attack. The key adjectives here are juicy, sweet, rich, and full. It’s never harsh or grating.
“The gain knob is pretty subtle from 10 o’clock up, which actually helps keep the Project 34 in character.”
There’s plenty of output available via the level control, but the gain knob is pretty subtle from 10 o’clock up, which actually helps keep the Project 34 in character. Settings below there remain relatively clean—amp-setting dependent, of course—and from that point on up the overdrive ramps up very gradually, which, in amp-like fashion, is heard as a slight increase in saturation and compression. The pedal was especially fantastic with the Telecaster and the tweed-style combo, but also interacted really well with humbuckers into EL84s, which certainly can’t be said for all overdrives.
The Verdict
Although I almost hate to use the term, the Project 34 is a very organic gain stage that just makes everything sound better, and does so with a selenium-driven voice that’s an interesting twist on the standard preamp/drive. For all the variations on boost and low/medium-gain overdrive out there it’s still a very welcome addition to the market, and definitely worth checking out—particularly if you’re looking for subtler shades of overdrive.
You may know the Gibson EB-6, but what you may not know is that its first iteration looked nothing like its latest.
When many guitarists first encounter Gibson’s EB-6, a rare, vintage 6-string bass, they assume it must be a response to the Fender Bass VI. And manyEB-6 basses sport an SG-style body shape, so they do look exceedingly modern. (It’s easy to imagine a stoner-rock or doom-metal band keeping one amid an arsenal of Dunables and EGCs.) But the earliest EB-6 basses didn’t look anything like SGs, and they arrived a full year before the more famous Fender.
The Gibson EB-6 was announced in 1959 and came into the world in 1960, not with a dual-horn body but with that of an elegant ES-335. They looked stately, with a thin, semi-hollow body, f-holes, and a sunburst finish. Our pick for this Vintage Vault column is one such first-year model, in about as original condition as you’re able to find today. “Why?” you may be asking. Well, read on....
When the EB-6 was introduced, the Bass VI was still a glimmer in Leo Fender’s eye. The real competition were the Danelectro 6-string basses that seemed to have popped up out of nowhere and were suddenly being used on lots of hit records by the likes of Elvis, Patsy Cline, and other household names. Danos like the UB-2 (introduced in ’56), the Longhorn 4623 (’58), and the Shorthorn 3612 (’58) were the earliest attempts any company made at a 6-string bass in this style: not quite a standard electric bass, not quite a guitar, nor, for that matter, quite like a baritone guitar.
The only change this vintage EB-6 features is a replacement set of Kluson tuners.
Photo by Ken Lapworth
Gibson, Fender, and others during this era would in fact call these basses “baritone guitars,” to add to our confusion today. But these vintage “baritones” were all tuned one octave below a standard guitar, with scale lengths around 30", while most modern baritones are tuned B-to-B or A-to-A and have scale lengths between 26" and 30".)
At the time, those Danelectros were instrumental to what was called the “tic-tac” bass sound of Nashville records produced by Chet Atkins, or the “click-bass” tones made out west by producer Lee Hazlewood. Gibson wanted something for this market, and the EB-6 was born.
“When the EB-6 was introduced, the Bass VI was still a glimmer in Leo Fender’s eye.”
The 30.5" scale 1960 EB-6 has a single humbucking pickup, a volume knob, a tone knob, and a small, push-button “Tone Selector Switch” that engages a treble circuit for an instant tic-tac sound. (Without engaging that switch, you get a bass-heavy tone so deep that cowboy chords will sound like a muddy mess.)
The EB-6, for better or for worse, did not unseat the Danelectros, and a November 1959 price list from Gibson hints at why: The EB-6 retailed for $340, compared to Dano price tags that ranged from $85 to $150. Only a few dozen EB-6 basses were shipped in 1960, and only 67 total are known to have been built before Gibson changed the shape to the SG style in 1962.
Most players who come across an EB-6 today think it was a response to the Fender Bass VI, but the former actually beat the latter to the market by a full year.
Photo by Ken Lapworth
It’s sad that so few were built. Sure, it was a high-end model made to achieve the novelty tic-tac sound of cheaper instruments, but in its full-voiced glory, the EB-6 has a huge potential of tones. It would sound great in our contemporary guitar era where more players are exploring baritone ranges, and where so many people got back into the Bass VI after seeing the Beatles play one in the 2021 documentary, Get Back.
It’s sadder, still, how many original-era EB-6s have been parted out in the decades since. Remember earlier when I wrote that our Vintage Vaultpick was about as original as you could find? That’s because the model’s single humbucker is a PAF, its Kluson tuners are double-line, and its knobs are identical to those on Les Paul ’Bursts. So as people repaired broken ’Bursts, converted other LPs to ’Bursts, or otherwise sought to give other Gibsons a “Golden Era” sound and look ... they often stripped these forgotten EB-6 basses for parts.
This original EB-6 is up for sale now from Reverb seller Emerald City Guitars for a $16,950 asking price at the time of writing. The only thing that isn’t original about it is a replacement set of Kluson tuners, not because its originals were stolen but just to help preserve them. (They will be included in the case.)
With so few surviving 335-style EB-6 basses, Reverb doesn’t have a ton of sales data to compare prices to. Ten years ago, a lucky buyer found a nearly original 1960 EB-6 for about $7,000. But Emerald City’s $16,950 asking price is closer to more recent examples and asking prices.
Sources: Prices on Gibson Instruments, November 1, 1959, Tony Bacon’s “Danelectro’s UB-2 and the Early Days of 6-String Basses” Reverb News article, Gruhn’s Guide to Vintage Guitars, Tom Wheeler’s American Guitars: An Illustrated History, Reverb listings and Price Guide sales data.
Some of us love drum machines and synths, and others don’t, but we all love Billy.
Billy Gibbons is an undisputable guitar force whose feel, tone, and all-around vibe make him the highest level of hero. But that’s not to say he hasn’t made some odd choices in his career, like when ZZ Top re-recorded parts of their classic albums for CD release. And fans will argue which era of the band’s career is best. Some of us love drum machines and synths and others don’t, but we all love Billy.
This episode is sponsored by Magnatone
An '80s-era cult favorite is back.
Originally released in the 1980s, the Victory has long been a cult favorite among guitarists for its distinctive double cutaway design and excellent upper-fret access. These new models feature flexible electronics, enhanced body contours, improved weight and balance, and an Explorer headstock shape.
A Cult Classic Made Modern
The new Victory features refined body contours, improved weight and balance, and an updated headstock shape based on the popular Gibson Explorer.
Effortless Playing
With a fast-playing SlimTaper neck profile and ebony fretboard with a compound radius, the Victory delivers low action without fret buzz everywhere on the fretboard.
Flexible Electronics
The two 80s Tribute humbucker pickups are wired to push/pull master volume and tone controls for coil splitting and inner/outer coil selection when the coils are split.
For more information, please visit gibson.com.