
PG chief editor Shawn Hammond on why guitar-playing listicles are bad-news bears that push his filthy-mouth buttons.
I've lost count of how many times I've ranted about garden-variety “listicles" and clickbait headlines leading to worthless online bullshit, but the sad truth is that now it's becoming more and more prevalent from guitar-oriented sites, too.
"5 Licks Every Guitarist Should Know!"
"9 Scales Only Dipshits Can't Blaze On!"
"17 Pedals You're a D-Bag for Not Owning!"
I'm obviously making these up—but just barely.
Theses things push my filthy-mouth buttons. I hate these friggin' lists. It's hard for me to believe that—like their counterparts on everyday subjects—90 percent of them aren't crapped out in five seconds under the vengeful eye of some bean-counting overlord or editorial slave driver, or by the latest over-caffeinated social-media-sensation wannabe. But to me even the ones that aren't full of fluff, even the ones that accurately analyze some musical point or another, are bad-news bears.
I know what you're thinking: "Whoa, there, Shawn-boy—who pissed in your Verena Street Cow Tipper coffee this morning? They're just headlines vying for eyeballs amongst a potential viewership whose attention is increasingly fractured by today's snappy digital lifestyle. No one should take them literally." Maybe, Ms. Very Articulate Mind Reader. But a lot of players out there really buy into this hyperbolic crap (craperbole?).
So exactly why do I hate these lists so much? Well, I can tell you that it's not just because they're arrogant and condescending. It's also because they're mind-bogglingly blind to the folly they peddle. They teach us to be lemmings. Every one of these listicles leads to things someone else already did better than you or I ever will.
"[Da Vinci] disdained 'trumpets and reciters of the works of others,' and tried to live by his own dictum: 'Better a small certainty, than a big lie.'" —Leonard Shlain
Given that we're here to talk about guitar and music, an ostensibly creative endeavor, it's worth taking a lesson or three from what we know about perhaps the most creative person humanity has ever known: Leonardo da Vinci. A peerless scientific genius whose inventions were centuries ahead of their time, he possessed a restless curiosity and keen intellect that altered the course of human history. He was also one of the most gifted, insightful, and prolific painters and sculptors of all time—a master of anatomy, perspective, and how they reflect and affect emotion.
Yet, as Bulgarian New Yorker (and MIT Futures of Entertainment Fellow) Maria Popova points out in her always-astute BrainPickings.org blog ("Leonardo's Brain: What a Posthumous Brain Scan Six Centuries Later Reveals About the Source of Da Vinci's Creativity"), he was also the opposite of everything a 15th-century listicle would've prescribed for success. Gay during a period when it was punishable by death, Leonardo was the illegitimate son of a wealthy playboy who later cruelly took him from his birth mother and treated him as something far removed from a son. Further, as a bastard child, da Vinci was not allowed to attend church-run schools of the day. Yet he went ahead and became the original Renaissance man anyway.
As Popova points out in her commentary on the late surgeon/inventor Leonard Shlain's 2014 book, Leonardo's Brain: Understanding Da Vinci's Creative Genius, all of these "disadvantages" and disconnections from the orthodox route to success in the 1400s likely preserved the unique natural aptitudes that led to Leonardo's place in history. As Shlain put it:
Unimpeded by the accretion of misconceptions that had fogged the lens of the educated, Leonardo was able to ask key questions and seek fresh answers. Although he could not quote learned books, he promised, "I will quote something far greater and more worthy: experience, the mistress of their masters." He disdained "trumpets and reciters of the works of others," and tried to live by his own dictum: "Better a small certainty, than a big lie."
"The source of Leonardo's extraordinary creativity," Popova posits, "was his ability to access different ways of thinking, to see more clearly the interconnectedness of everything, and in doing so, to reach a different state of consciousness…."
Food for thought next time you see one of those confounded listicles talking down to you from its perch on high, eh? Instead of falling for the bait, flush that cyber craperbole and hit the woodshed to start chiseling out your own "small certainty" based on what sounds and feels right to your ears, not some blathering blowhard.
[Updated 7/29/21]
Analog modulation guided by a digital brain willing to get weird.
Fun, fluid operation. Capable of vintage-thick textures at heavier gain settings. High headroom for accommodating other effects.
MIDI required to access more than one preset—which you’ll probably long for, given the breadth of voices.
$369
Kernom Elipse
If you love modulation—and lots of it—you can eat up a lot of pedalboard space fast. Modulation effects can be super-idiosyncratic and specialized, which leads to keeping many around, particularly if you favor the analog domain. TheKernom Elipse multi-modulator is pretty big and, at a glance, might not seem the best solution for real estate scarcity. Yet the Elipse is only about 1 1/4" wider than two standard-sized Boss pedals side by side. And by combining an analog signal path with digital control, it makes impressive, efficient use of its size—stuffing fine-sounding harmonic tremolo, phaser, rotary-style, chorus, vibrato, flanger, and Uni-Vibe-style effects into a single hefty enclosure. Many of the effects can also be blended and morphed into one another using a rotary control aptly called “mood.” The Elipse, most certainly, has many of those.
Modulator With Many Masks
Anywhere pedal hounds meet and chat you’ll encounter spirited talk about the way pedals sound relative to a certain gold standard. It makes sense. Benchmarks are useful for understanding anything. But one of the things I like best about the Kernom Elipse is how it eludes easy comparison to such standards, and how the fluidity of its controls make it sound unique. As with any review, I compared the Elipse to as many pedals as I have that are relevant. Here, that included an Ibanez analog chorus, Phase 90 and Small Stone phasers, an optical Uni-Vibe-style pedal, a Boss BF-2,Mu-Tron Phasor II clone, and more. But what made the Elipse stand out in this company was function as much as sound. Operating the Elipse with an open mind, rather than a quest to replicate another pedal’s sound, leads to intriguing, unique, and unusual tones more specialized modulators don’t always offer.
“The Elipse is pretty ambitious for an analog modulator, but doesn’t spread itself too thin.”
Three of the Elipse’s controls—speed, mix, and depth—function predictably. The latter two controls, however, change function depending on the pedal’s mood (or mode). In tremolo mode, setting the mix at noon generates complex, warbly, and elastic harmonic tremolo-like textures. At maximum, it shifts to a more binary, on/off sound akin to optical or bias tremolo. In chorus/vibrato mode, the noon position marks a 50/50 wet/dry mix of pitch shift and dry signal—the ingredients for any chorus. At maximum, the signal is 100 percent wet, yielding pure pitch-shift vibrato. The shape control, meanwhile, adjusts the LFO waveform. In tremolo mode that means moving between triangle- and sine-wave pulses. The swirl control is the wild card of the bunch. It adds big-time dimension to the Elipse in all modes. Through most of its range, it slathers slow phase on whatever modulation is already bubbling and burbling. In the latter third of its range, though, it also adds gain, and by the time you reach maximum, the output is discernibly thickened in the low-midrange zone. The gain and low-mid bump helps compensate for the perceived volume loss intrinsic to modulation. But they also excite different segments of the harmonic spectrum as you manipulate other modulation-shaping parameters—adding expansiveness as well as the thickness you might miss from vintage modulators.
Enunciation Modulation
Compared to many of the modulation pedals I used for contrast, the Elipse has a high-mid-forward voice. This frequency bias has advantages. It lends most of the Elipse’s modulation textures a clear, airy essence that keeps their character present when adding fuzz or big delay and reverb effects. It makes some modulations less chewy, but it’s also easy to imagine such textures slotting easily into a mix where some thicker analog modulators would gobble up harmonic space.
The basic EQ profile also makes it easier to probe the nuances in the “in-between” voices, living in the liminal spaces between pedal moods. When you start to play with these blended textures and various blends of drive, shape, mix, and depth, you encounter many sounds that veer from vintage templates in cool ways. Lathering on gain from the swirl control and lazy depth rates made the hybrid chorus/flange intense, dreamy, and enveloping. Similar blends of slow, heavy harmonic tremolo and rotary speaker sounded massive too.
The Verdict
The Elipse is pretty ambitious for an analog modulator, but doesn’t spread itself too thin. Players looking for one or two very specific modulation sounds might find the interrelationships between the Elipse’s controls too complex. The inability to save more than a single onboard preset without a MIDI switcher might frustrate guitarists used to all-digital pedals’ preset capabilities. Players that already have MIDI switchers in their rigs, however, could fall hard for the ability to switch between Elipse’s myriad, complex, analog-colored textures. With or without MIDI, it is an excellent analog modulator that offers colors galore.
An easy guide to re-anchoring a loose tuning machine, restoring a “lost” input jack, refinishing dinged frets, and staunching a dinged surface. Result: no repair fees!
This late-’90s Masterbilt was made to mimic the feeling and look of vintage luxury.
This collaborative effort between Japanese and American guitar builders aimed for old-school quality without breaking the bank.
I recently called a rideshare to pick me up from the airport and was surprised when the driver pulled up in a Jaguar. I’d never been in one and was stunned at how quiet it was, and how the backseat was as comfortable as a living room couch, but retained a refined look. This 1998 Masterbilt prototype reminds me of that airport ride.
Some guitars just feel expensive. Not in an “I shouldn't be touching this, lest I scratch it” way so much as simply exuding luxury. Maybe it’s the flawless ebony fretboard, making gliding up and down the neck feel like ice skating. Or perhaps it’s the slim, ’60s-style neck shape which felt instantly comfortable in my small hands. It may have something to do with the sumptuously low 2/32" action at the 12th fret, requiring hardly any effort to play.
Makes sense, considering this guitar’s origin story. Mac Yasuda was born in Nishinomiya, Japan. At 15, he discovered the music of Hank Snow and fell in love with country music and the guitar itself. He stole a classical guitar from his cousin (“He never played it,” said Yasuda) and started a band with his friends. Yasuda traveled to the States in the ’70s and after picking up his first vintage guitar from a pawn shop, he was hooked. He began scoping out gear for his friends, which eventually grew into a shop called Mac’s Guitar Gallery in Kobe, Japan. By the ’90s, he estimated he had owned between 4,000 and 5,000 instruments, and his collection was valued at $3 million. He has authored several books about vintage guitars and is widely considered one of the world's preeminent authorities on the subject.
Yasuda is also an accomplished musician. While in Nashville in the ’80s—perhaps for one of the half-dozen times he’s performed on theGrand Ole Opry—he met Greg Rich, an instrument designer who was then head of Gibson’s banjo division. Yasuda enlisted Greg Rich and another guitar maker named Mark Taylor to produce a line of high-quality, vintage-style instruments under the name Masterbilt. “Vintage guitars are fine, but they're limited,” said Yasuda at the time. His Masterbilt guitars would give us mere mortals the chance to get a taste of the luxurious feel of a fine vintage instrument. Masterbilt debuted at NAMM in 1997, and it’s still unknown how many guitars were actually produced. The trademark of the Masterbilt name was cancelled in 2005 and has since been used by other brands, like Epiphone.
“Some folks think anything from the ’80s or before is vintage, but perhaps the fact that time has continued to march on should be factored in.”
Fanny's House of Music believes this guitar to be an early prototype, one of six ever made. Three were sunburst and three were natural. Playing it feels like playing any fine vintage 335; funny when you consider that at 27 years old, some would consider this Masterbilt vintage itself. The notion of what is considered truly “vintage” is hotly debated on Reddit every few months. Some folks think anything from the ’80s or before is vintage, but perhaps the fact that time has continued to march on should be factored in. Some guitars from the ’80s are now 45 years old! We consider guitars from the ’90s to be vintage at this point, so this 1998 Masterbilt prototype fits right in.
This Masterbilt is now 27 years old. In your books, does that make it a “vintage” guitar?
Photo by Madison Thorn
It’s a good example of how history and passion can intersect to create something special. This guitar tells a story of dedication to quality and an appreciation for the feel of a well-made instrument. Whether or not a 27-year-old guitar qualifies as “vintage” may be up for debate, but the magic in this guitar definitely isn’t. If you’re ever in Nashville, stop by Fanny’s and take it for a spin. You might find yourself feeling a bit like I felt after my unexpected ride in a Jaguar: getting a glimpse into the world of understated elegance, where refinement isn't about flash but about experiencing something crafted to near perfection.
SOURCES: namm.com, Los Angeles Times, Blue Book of Guitar Values, Vintage Guitar, Guitar-List.
Unleash your inner metal icon with the Jackson Lee Malia LM-87, a high-performance shred-ready axe designed in collaboration with Bring Me The Horizon guitarist Lee Malia. Featuring custom Jackson signature pickups, a fast D-profile neck, and a TOM-style bridge for rock-solid stability, this signature model is a must-have for commanding metal tone and smooth playability.
British metal icon and Bring Me The Horizon guitarist Lee Malia has partnered with Jackson to create his signature LM-87, a shred-ready axe built for heavy riffing and alternative modern metal. As a founding member and lead guitarist of the Grammy-nominated band, Malia is renowned for his aggressive playing style and intricate solos. This high-performance guitar matches his demanding musicality.
With its offset Surfcaster™ body shape and vintage appeal, the LM-87 melds classic design with modern appointments. The thin open pore finish on the bound Okoume body and neck exudes organic style, while the unique 3-ply pickguard and chrome hardware add striking accents. The fast D-profile 3- piece okoume neck allows smooth riffing across the bound amaranth fingerboard.
Custom Jackson signature pickups, including a bridge humbucker with push-pull coil-split, equip the LM-87 with versatile tone-shaping options to fulfill Malia's sonic vision. The TOM-style bridge with anchored tailpiece and fine tuners provides rock-solid stability for low tunings and heavy picking.
Designed in close collaboration with the legendary guitarist, the Jackson Lee Malia LM-87 is built for shredding. Its blend of vintage vibe and high-performance features make this signature model a must-have for players who value commanding metal tone and smooth playability.
The Tune-o-matic bridge with an anchored tailpiece and fine tuners offers enhanced tuning stability and precise, incremental adjustments. This setup ensures consistent pitch control, improved sustain, and easier fine-tuning without affecting overall string tension.
The guitar’s three-piece set-neck guitar with graphite reinforcement offers exceptional strength, stability, and resistance to warping. The multi-piece construction enhances sustain and tonal clarity, while the graphite reinforcement adds extra durability and prevents neck shifting due to humidity or temperature changes. This design ensures a solid, reliable performance with improved resonance and longevity.
Features Include:
- Okoume body
- Three-piece okoume set neck construction with graphite reinforcement
- 12"-16" compound radius amaranth fingerboard
- 3-ply pickguard
- Chrome hardware
- Custom wound Jackson LM-87 pickups
- Volume with push-pull coil-split and tone control
- TOM-style bridge with anchored tailpiece and fine tuners
- Gig bag included
The Jackson LM-87 carries a street price of $899.99.
For more information, please visit jacksonguitars.com.