
The great actor Michael Caine offered some wisdom on facing challenges.
Stay fresh by taking a tip from actor Michael Caine when facing challenges.
When I was a kid, there were paths one was expected to follow. Most of us graduated high school, then it was a job, college, or the military. I seem to remember a shocking amount of my peers having clearly defined goals, with elaborate 10-step plans laid out in two-year increments. Their unyielding paths sounded like a prison sentence to me, and yet, I was terrified not knowing what to do or where to do it.
I don’t think teens today could make a 10-year plan. It used to be the world you were born in looked like the world you will die in. This is the first time in human history when nobody knows what the world will be like in five or 10 years. How does one prepare for something nobody has ever experienced?
This century started with a paradigm shift that brought the war on terror, homeland security, and TSA-scrutinized travel. Then the global pandemic hits, millions die, inflation takes off like a rocket, the weather grows more erratic, and our phones feed us a heavy diet of terrifying, conflicting stories that throw everything into question, which further polarizes people. Paradoxically, a lifetime of being a professional musician has left me aptly prepared to handle the uncertainty of our modern, unpredictable world.
I approach life the way I approach playing a solo: assess and improvise. I’m not a great mimic, and I don’t particularly enjoy trying to cop a specific part. If the part is set in stone, then there’s a chance that my brain or fingers or instrument will not cooperate. It could be the simplest, slow three-note phrase, but trust me, under pressure, I could, and have, messed them up. But if I’m flying blind, making music without direction, there are no mistakes.
I honestly think that one of my strengths as a musician is that I’m not great. What I mean is, if I was a virtuoso who had so mastered my instrument that I could play anything, if I could make my instrument do whatever I command of it, I would quickly run out of surprises. That would be a tragedy because the surprises are the best part.
Most of the time, I don’t know what I’m going to play on a solo. But I find if I’m open to anything, then I listen better to what the other players are doing. Instead of it just being my predictable choice of notes, two or three additional players can push and guide me to a better, more interesting place. It’s impossible to be predictable when you don’t know what you’re going to try, much less if you can achieve what you are going for. I never know if I’m going to stick the landing. I sometimes don’t even know until I hear the playback. Even then, sometimes I have to listen repeatedly to determine if it’s horrible or cool.
“If I was a virtuoso who had so mastered my instrument that I could play anything, if I could make my instrument do whatever I command of it, I would quickly run out of surprises. That would be a tragedy because the surprises are the best part.”
The trick is to be okay with letting go of your plans and making a fool of yourself. Fear of failure, fear of ridicule, and fear of making mistakes are all things you have to get over and just let the music go where it wants to go.
Not knowing your destination can be an advantage. With no road map or destination, we have the opportunity to explore uncharted territories and let our stumbles and bumbles guide us toward unexpected places that are way more interesting than what we could have imagined. When you are open-minded, doors open.
I saw an interview with Oscar-winning actor Michael Caine where he said, “If I have one philosophy in life, it is ‘use the difficulty.’” While working on a play as a young actor, Caine was supposed to walk through a door onto the set to join an improvised scene, but one of the actors threw a chair. It became lodged in the door Caine was supposed to walk through.
Caine said to the director, “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t get in … there’s a chair there.” The director said, “ ‘Use the difficulty…. If it’s a comedy, fall over it. If it’s a drama, pick it up and smash it…’ I took that into my own life. You ask my children. If anything bad happens, they go, ‘We gotta use the difficulty. What can we get out of this?’ There’s never anything so bad that you cannot use that difficulty. If you can use it a quarter of 1 percent to your advantage, you’re ahead. You didn’t let it get you down. That’s my philosophy.”
So, when you find yourself worried about the world’s multiple wars, America’s polarizing politics, and the current difficulty in keeping up with the rising costs of living, or a broken B string during a solo, try embracing the uncertainty and unpredictability. Every challenge is a gift of opportunity if you use it.
- Last Call: Where the Author Gets off His Lazy Ass and Takes a Jazz Class ›
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- The Rules of Improvisation ›
The Gibson EH-185, introduced in 1939, was one of the company’s first electric guitars.
Before the Les Pauls and SGs, this aluminum-reinforced instrument was one of the famous brand’s first electric guitars.
It’s hard to overstate the importance of electric guitar in shaping American popular music over the last half-century. Its introduction was a revolution, changing the course of modern musical styles. Today, when we think of the guitars that started the revolution, we think of the Stratocaster and the Les Paul, guitars held against the body and fretted with the fingertips. But the real spark of this musical mutiny was the lap-steel guitar.
In the early 20th century, guitar music was moving out of the parlors of homes and into public spaces where folks could gather together and dance. Guitarists needed to project their sound far beyond where their wimpy little acoustic instruments could reach. Instrument manufacturers began experimenting with larger body sizes, metal construction, and resonators to increase volume.
Around this time, George Beauchamp began experimenting with electric guitar amplification. He settled on a design using two U-shaped magnets and a single coil of wire. Beauchamp was in business with Adolph Rickenbacker, and they decided to stick this new invention into a lap steel.
If we put on our 1930s glasses, this decision makes perfect sense. The most popular music at the time was a blend of Hawaiian and jazz styles made famous by virtuosos like Solomon “Sol” Hoʻopiʻi. Photos of Hoʻopiʻi with a metal-body resonator abound—one can imagine his relief at being handed an instrument that projected sound toward the audience via an amplifier, rather than back at his own head via resonator cones. Beauchamp and Rickenbacker were simply following the market.
As it turned out, the popularity of Hawaiian music gave way to swing, and electric lap steels didn’t exactly take the world by storm. But Beauchamp and Rickenbacker had proven the viability of this new technology, and other manufacturers followed suit. In 1937, Gibson created a pickup with magnets under the strings, rather than above like Beauchamp’s.
“When I plugged in the EH-185 I expected to hear something reminiscent of Charlie Christian’s smooth, clean tone. But what I got was meatier—closer to what I associate with P-90s: warm and midrange-y.”
The first page of Gibson’s “Electrical Instruments” section in the 1939 catalog features a glowing, full-page write-up of their top-of-the-line lap steel: the EH-185. “Everything about this new electric Hawaiian Guitar smacks of good showmanship,” effuses the copy. “It has smoothness, great sustaining power, and an easy flow of tone that builds up strongly and does not die out.”
Picking up the 1940 EH-185 at Fanny’s House of Music is about as close as one can get to traveling back in time to try a new one. It is just so clean, with barely any dings or even finish checking. Overall, this is a 9/10 piece, and it’s a joy to behold. Speaking of picking it up, the first thing you notice when you lift the EH-185 out of the case is its weight. This is a much heavier instrument than other similar-sized lap steels, owing to a length of thick metal between the body and the fretboard. The catalog calls it “Hyblum metal,” which may be a flowery trade name for an early aluminum alloy.
This 1940 EH-185 is heavier than other lap steels in its class, thanks to a length of metal between its fretboard and body.
Photo by Madison Thorn
There are numerous other fancy appointments on the EH-185 that Gibson didn’t offer on their lesser models. It’s made of highly figured maple, with diamond-shaped decorations on the back of the body and neck. The double binding is nearly a centimeter thick and gives the instrument a luxurious, expensive look.
Behind all these high-end attributes is a great-sounding guitar, thanks to that old pickup. It’s got three blades protruding through the bobbin for the unwound strings and one longer blade for the wound strings. When I plugged in the EH-185 I expected to hear something reminiscent of Charlie Christian’s smooth, clean tone. But what I got was meatier—closer to what I associate with P-90s: warm and midrange-y. It was just crying out for a little crunch and a bluesy touch. It’s kind of cool how such a pristine, high-end vintage instrument can be so well-suited for a sound that’s rough around the edges.
As far as electric guitars go, it doesn’t get much more vintage than this 1940 Gibson EH-185 Lap Steel. It reminds us of where the story of the electric guitar truly began. This EH-185 isn’t just a relic—it’s a testament to when the future of music was unfolding in real time. Plug it in, and you become part of the revolution.
Sources: Smithsonian, Vintage Guitar, Mozart Project, Gibson Pre-War, WIRED, Steel Guitar Forum, Vintaxe
Editorial Director Ted Drozdowski’s current favorite noisemakers.
Premier Guitar’s edit staff shares their favorite fuzz units and how and when they use them.
Premier Guitar’s editors use their favorite fuzz pedals in countless ways. At any point during our waking hours, one of us could be turned on, plugged in, and fuzzed out—chasing a Sabbath riff, tracking menacing drone ambience, fire-branding a solo break with a psychedelic blast, or something else altogether more deranged. As any PGreader knows, there are nearly infinite paths to these destinations and almost as many fuzz boxes to travel with. Germanium, silicon, 2-transistor, 4-transistor, 6-transistor, octave, multimode, modern, and caveman-stupid: Almost all of these fuzz types are represented among our own faves, which are presented here as inspiration, and launch pads for your own rocket rides to the Fuzz-o-sphere.
Ted Drozdowski - Editorial Director
My favorite is my Burns Buzz, a stomp custom-made for me by Gary Kibler of Big Knob Pedals. Gary specializes in recreations of old circuits, and this Burns Buzzaround-inspired box has four germanium NOS transistors and sounds beautifully gnarly. It improves on the original, which Robert Fripp favored in early King Crimson, by adding a volume control. I went a little stir-crazy acquiring fuzzes during Covid lockdown and now have an embarrassing amount. My other current darlings are a SoloDallas Orbiter (which balances fuzz with core-signal clarity), a Joe Gore Duh (a no-nonsense, 1-knob dirt shoveler), and my Big Knob Tone Blender MkII 66, which taught me how smooth and creamy fuzz can be with carefully calibrated settings. These pedals allow me to cover all of my favorite fuzz sounds from the past 60 years. I do have one more secret weapon fuzz that only travels to the studio: an original Maestro FZ-1 that I picked up used for about $20 in the early ’90s. It’s banged up but functional, takes two 9V batteries, and is righteously juicy.
Nick Millevoi - Senior Editor
The two greatest fuzzes I’ve ever played are a Pigdog Tone Bender build and a Paul Trombetta Bone Machine. Both experiences will stick with me for decades to come. But creations by those two masters of fuzz come with a price tag high enough to keep my time with those pedals fleeting.
Instead, my favorite fuzz is an inexpensive, mass-produced pedal that hasn’t left my board since I reviewed and subsequently purchased it in 2021: the Electro-Harmonix Ripped Speaker, designed to emulate the distorted tones on ’50s and ’60s records that were created with broken or misused gear.
Retro inspiration is not all it has to offer though. The rip knob, which controls transistor bias, is the star of the show, interacting with the fuzz level to deliver everything from a smooth, mild fuzz to sputtery mayhem that can evoke a faulty channel strip or old tube combo that’s been set ablaze. I prefer to crank the rip knob and feed it to a phaser and slapback analog delay, which gives me a bit-crushed-like gnarliness. Pull back on the rip or add a boost in front of the pedal, and it has a more organic but still gated sound, which, for me, can be just the thing to set my sound apart in a more traditional setting.
For a cool $116, the Ripped Speaker, which seems to fly under most fuzz freaks’ radars, might be the special something that complements the rest of your board or just a tone you turn to on occasion. Either way, it’s a great deal.
Luke Ottenhof - Assistant Editor
You could give me the most powerful-sounding fuzz in the world, but if it was in a stupid-looking enclosure, I don’t know if I’d give it a second look. This is just how we operate: Vision is the sense we privilege most, even in matters of audio.
Luckily, the most seismic, monstrous fuzz I’ve ever heard also happens to come in a beautiful package. The Mile End Effects Kollaps, built by Justin Cober in Montreal, measures an elephantine 7 3/8" x 4 5/8" x 1 1/2", and its MuTron-meets-’60s-Soviet aesthetic matches the sounds its guts produce. The Kollaps is modeled after the nasty Univox Super-Fuzz circuit, and carries a few of that pedal’s hallmarks, including its use of germanium diodes and midrange boost control. Cober added a switchable Baxandall active EQ circuit, with up to 12 dB of boost and cut to both low and high frequencies. Coupled with the mid-boost toggle, this gives the Kollaps a shockingly broad range of tonality to play with.With the mids off, the Kollaps is jagged and ruthless, a deafening turbojet of upper mids and chest-vibrating lows that yanks me toward the darker, less commercially successful corners of ’90s doom and noise rock. Kicking on the EQ circuit and boosting the lows turns it titanic. With the balance (volume) and expand (gain) controls maxed, the Kollaps starts to live up to its name, crumbling into a thick, overextended chaos in a way more polite fuzz circuits rarely do.
My favorite Kollaps sounds occur when the mids are engaged, for an articulate, deeply textured fuzz sound that retains your attack. Playing with your guitar’s volume knob, you can coax a range of EQ profiles and take advantage of the upper- and lower-octave content in the fuzz. With guitar volume lower, you can access some unbelievably emotive and sensitive sounds that still teeter on the edge of chaos and violence. It’s a rich, volatile circuit that gets as close as I’ve heard to a sound and physical feeling I’d call “planet-destroying.”
Charles Saufley - Gear Editor
My first fuzz, A Sovtek Big Muff, remains tied for first place among many favorites. The pedal’s most famous virtues—corpulence and sustain—are among the reasons I treasure it. But the way the Sovtek pairs with a Rickenbacker 330 and Fender Jaguar, which were once my two primary guitars for performance and recording, made it invaluable in various projects for a long time. Neither the Ricky nor the Jag are sustain machines, but the wailing mass of theBig Muff makes their focused voices an asset—inspiring tight, concise fuzz phrases, hooks, and riffs as well as articulate chords.
A silicon Fuzzrite clone built by good pal Jesse Trbovich (long-time member ofKurt Vile’s Violators) runs second place to the Sovtek in terms of tenure, and is a very different fuzz. It’s a piercing, hyper-buzzy thing, but a perfect match for a squishy 1960s Fender Bassman head and 2x12 I adore. Perversely, I sometimes couple it with a Death By Audio Thee Ffuzz Warr Overload or Wattson FY-6 Shin-Ei Super-Fuzz clone. These tandems create chaos and chance, but sing loud and melodiously too—at least when I’m not intentionally bathing in feedback. The Jext Telez Buzz Tone, a clone of the mid-’60s Selmer circuit, is often my go-to now. It’s a low-gain affair compared to the other fuzzes here, and I use it in its even-lower-gain (and vintage-correct) 3-volt setting. It’s pretty noisy, but it is thick, dynamic, detailed, raunchy, and plenty trashy when the occasion demands it. It’s also a very cool overdrive when you back off the gas.Jason Shadrick - Managing Editor
I rarely need fuzz in my everyday gigs, but it's one of the most fun effects to explore when I'm noodling around. At a NAMM show a few years ago I plugged into Mythos' Argo and as soon as I hit a note my eyes lit up. The sound of the fuzz wasn't unwieldy or hard to manage. It gave me the illusion of control while the octave was the magic dust on top. I knew right then I wasn't leaving the show without one. After I spent some time with it, I became enamored by how much more the Argo can do.
It's inspired by the Prescription Electronics C.O.B. (Clean Octave Blend), so the control set is similar. The octave is always present in the signal path, but you can dial it out with the blend knob. The fuzz and volume knobs are self explanatory, but dialing the fuzz and octave knobs all the way down gives you a killer boost pedal. I find my favorite settings are at the extremes of the fuzz and blend ranges. Typically, both are either all the way up or all the way down. Another great experiment is to turn the fuzz down and then pair it with a separate drive pedal. And in octave mode, Argo is one of those pedals that inspires you to head directly for the neck pickup and stay above the 12th fret.
Grez Guitars has introduced the Grez GrandTour Bass, a short scale semi-hollow carve-top instrument available in 4-string format.
The Grez Grand Tour Bass, designed in collaboration with bass powerhouse Ian MartinAllison is, like all Grez instruments, a modern sleek interpretation of the classic instruments from the 50’s and 60’s.
The instruments feature a carved Spruce top, Honduran Mahogany body and neck. The 30" scale construction includes a Macassar ebony fretboard, 12” radius with 21 jumbofrets. Each bass comes equipped with a Halon bridge, Grez string anchor and LaBellaDeep Talkin’ long scale 45-105 flatwound strings. Electronics include Curtis Novak Bisonic/Darkstar pickups with coil tap.
The Grand Tour bass features a nitro finish and is available in a variety of colors(pictured here in custom Toasted Marshmallow).
Grez Grand Tour Bass with Ian Martin Allison
Barry Grzebik explains: “I love process of design instruments, marrying acoustical,electrical, visual and ergonomic engineering with industrial and artistic design. In this case creating something that artfully balances the desire for a robust acoustic voice with the need to hold up to professional touring and stadium stage volumes. One small notable detail is that although this is a short scale instrument, because of the after-length of string past the bridge, it uses standard long scale strings which dramatically increases sting options and availability.”
Ian Marin Allison shares, “I’m inspired by the unique character of vintage hollow andsemi-hollow basses, but they don’t always live up to our modern expectation of stability, playability, versatility and QUALITY. I’m proud to have helped create something that does”.
The Grez Grand Tour Bass, is available now from Grez Guitars and their dealers with astreet price starting at $5,999. Light customization is welcome with delivery times aslittle as 8 weeks.
Super versatile EQ. Punchy and powerful in tracking situations. Surprisingly sweet clean tones. Useful DI features. Fun!
Midrange focus comes at expense of airiness. Push button switches can be noisy.
$299
Peavey Joshua Homme Decade Too
The punchy and potent practice amp that propelled many classic QOTSA tracks proves surprisingly versatile thanks to a flexible EQ section and cool clean tones.
One of the reasons classic Queens of the Stone Age tracks leap from radio speakers like striking vipers is because Josh Homme is a true recording artist—an individual that chases and realizes the sounds in his mind by any means necessary. When you play the 10-watt, solid-state Peavey Decade Too with Homme and QOTSA in mind you understand why the original Peavey Decade became integral to that process. It’s feral, present, nasty, bursting with punky attitude, and when tracked and mixed with a booming bass, sounds positively menacing. But it’s also a lovely clean jangle machine that will lend energy to paisley psych pop or punch to a Bakersfield Telecaster solo.
Objectively speaking, if you’ve played an ’80s Peavey practice amp before, you will know many of these sounds well. (Many of my own early amplified experiences came courtesy of a borrowed Backstage 30, so they are etched deep in my marrow and consciousness.) Like any small amp with a little speaker and cabinet, it’s marked by an inherent, pronounced midrange honk—no doubt, an ingredient that Homme found appealing in his original Decade. The saturation is thick and surprisingly dimensional. But it’s the 3-band EQ, with added bass and top-end boost buttons, that really extends the versatility of the Decade Too. In many contexts, it made a cherished vintage Fender Champ sound like a one-trick pony. The Decade Too may not excel at cooking-tubes-style distortion, but in terms of punch, clarity, and versatility in the studio environment, it delivers the goods.