See how a Tube Screamer and a pair of POGs mesh with badass bassist Bridget Kearney’s carved double bass. Plus, touring guitarist James Cornelison shows the oddball guitars and pickups he chose to funkify the band’s neo-soul dance parties.
College internships can run the gamut. They can lead you into a career or dissuade you from pursuing one altogether. In 2004, while still attending the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, singer Rachael Price, bassist Bridget Kearney, founding guitarist Mike “McDuck” Olson, and drummer Mike Calabrese joined forces to perform as what they dubbed a “free country band,” where they intended to play country music in an improvised, avant-garde style. As it goes with many college-years experiments, it didn’t stick, but the fervid foursome pushed forward in continuing to develop their own sound. They quickly graduated to a bona fide band cultivating a buzz with infectious concerts, creative covers, and complex, groovy originals. Through their mutual influences and complimentary counterpoints, their sound matured into a harmonious fusion, as if Berry Gordy produced the Beatles in Nashville’s RCA Studio.
If starting a band and shaping their sound was an internship and bachelor’s degree, self-releasing records and organizing U.S. tours would be their master’s and doctorate. They self-released 2007’s In This Episode... and 2008’s Promises, Promises before joining Signature Sounds, who put out 2010’s Lake Street Dive and 2014’s Bad Self Portraits. (The latter slotted them on the Billboard charts—No. 18 in the 200 and No. 5 in Top Rock Albums.) They then signed to Nonesuch, where they’ve dropped three more albums—most notably 2016’s Side Pony, which put them atop the Top Rock Albums chart, while 2021’s Obviously netted them their highest single, with “Hypotheticals” hitting No. 2 on the Adult Alternative Airplay chart.
And while the band has continued to evolve, experiment, and expand their signature sound, they have kept to their core identity—having fun. They seem never to miss a Halloween dress-up show, and still aren’t gun-shy about covering classics and making them their own. Setlists are often littered with audience requests and reinterpretations of the Beatles, Hall & Oates, George Michael, Bonnie Raitt, Elvis, Shania Twain, the Pointer Sisters, the Jackson Five, the Kinks, Steely Dan, Annie Lennox, Sly & the Family Stone, and countless others.
The afternoon before their second consecutive sellout at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium, Lake Street Dive’s Bridget Kearney and touring guitarist James Cornelison welcomed PG’s Chris Kies on stage for a casual gear chat. Kearney explained how she uses a pair of octave pedals through her standup double bass, and what she’s doing with four tuners! Plus, she explains what restarted her slow-burn courtship with electric bass. Then, Cornelison walks us through his setup, which includes leftover pieces from retired guitarist Mike “McDuck” Olson and a ratty pickup bought off a former PG staffer. It both honors the band’s catalog and carves his own musical fingerprint.
Brought to you by D’Addario Nexxus 360 Tuner.
All About That Bass
Bridget Kearney is known for almost exclusively using a standup double bass on stage and in the studio with Lake Street Dive. (As you’ll see in a minute, she’s fostering her connection with electric bass.) She’s been thumping on this one since LSD took shape. She acquired the 50-year-old carved double bass (all solid-wood construction) from fellow bass player and friend Ben Davis. When she received it from Davis, he had already added a David Gage Realist LifeLine pickup, but she’s opted to add and amplify via a Fishman Full Circle Upright Bass Pickup (“the heart of the tone”) and a Pierre Josephs String Charger magnetic transducer (“helpful getting extra juice to cut through when playing with a full band”). The Fishman provides a pure, clean signal to FOH, while the String Charger handles all the effects Kearney puts on her instrument. It’s been years since she’s changed strings, but she thinks they’re D’Addario Helicore Orchestral bass strings.
Playing Paul
In Brooklyn for Halloween 2020, Lake Street Dive recreated the iconic Beatles rooftop concert. In doing so, the entire band doubled down to look the part (wigs, sideburns, and shaggy coats included). To be as authentic as possible, Kearney borrowed a friend’s Höfner for the performance. She enjoyed the playing experience and wanted to further investigate the electric bass, then bought this Höfner Limited Edition H500/2-RLC-O Club Bass. “Before this, I hadn’t played electric bass for nearly 20 years. It took me to the age of 35 to think, ‘I wonder if electric bass could be a cool thing?’ Höfner and that rooftop concert was my gateway drug back to solidbody electric basses.”
New Friend
Kearney landed this brown beauty just a few months ago while instrument-shopping in Seattle. She had saw this 1975 Fender P bass on a store’s online inventory, but Bridget realized after arriving that she had went to the wrong store. However, the “wrong” store had a 1969 P she couldn’t pass up. Even after buying a vintage gem, months later, the above ’75 was still haunting her. So, the next time she visited Seattle, Kearney went to the “right” store and made the purchase. She hasn’t used it in the studio yet, but during this run of shows, she brought it for the band’s cover of “Love Doctor” from her 2017 solo record Won’t Let You Down. (The Cookin’ Outlaws stickers were put on prior to the score, and Bridget notes they are a part of the instrument’s charm.)
Bridget Kearney’s Pedalboard
“My pedalboard is a little bit ridiculous. It’s composed of four Boss tuners [laughs],” concedes Kearney. Unraveling the 4-tuner conundrum, she explains that she uses a pair of TU-3s for each pickup on her standup bass. The ingenious silver plate allows her to mute both signals with one kick. A passive TU-2 stays on all the time to help her play the fretless standup as close to in tune as possible. And the fourth Boss tuner is for her electric basses. Her duo of Electro-Harmonix Micro POGs each have a specific duty—one goes low (for “Good Kisser”), and one goes high (for solos and melodic lines). An Ibanez TS9 Tube Screamer adds some sting to the double bass for “Bobby Tanqueray” and other parts. A couple of Radial Firefly Tube Direct Boxes send all her bass signals to FOH.
Gather ’Round This Gibson
For this batch of shows under the Gather Round Sounds Tour umbrella, LSD revamped their catalog for stripped-down, alternative arrangements. This is how they described the tour on social media: “Join us for these easy going, semi-acoustic evenings full of the fan favs, some deep cuts, and maybe even some works in progress in our most relaxed, basement couch setting yet.” Accommodating those cozy cabin vibes, guitarist James Cornelison brought along this 2010s Gibson J-35 reissue.
Cowboy Chords
When the band reaches maximum campfire camaraderie, they perform as a guitar trio. In that arrangement, drummer/percussionist Mike Calabrase uses this Gibson Songwriter Standard EC Rosewood acoustic-electric.
This late-’60s Harmony H165 is singing better than ever, thanks to the facelift handed out by Old Style Guitar Shop in L.A. Aside from bracing upgrades and a proper setup, it’s been given two pickups (a piezo) and what looks like (but is unconfirmed) a variation of Seymour Duncan’s Hot Rails. When asked during the Rundown, James was unsure but did note that Old Style uses this pickup on all their acoustic overhauls. You’ll also notice a rubber bridge giving this storyteller even more vibe.
Roommate Robbery
Cornelison’s roommate received this Excel SS from D’Angelico, but James gravitated more towards the instrument, so it unofficially became his. (What a friend!) Since adopting the 6-string, he’s designated it as his “Frankenstein project” as he’s tried several experiments on it—using flatwounds, playing in open tunings, and replacing the stock neck humbucker with an old Teisco gold-foil pickup. It currently is the slide guitar for LSD material and stays in high-tension F-tuning for “Hush Money” off 2021’s Obviously.
We’re Not Worthy!
Single-coil sweetness is provided by this ’90s Squier Wayne’s World Stratocaster. (As you would assume, “Stairway” is not allowed on this Strat—denied!)
Big Ups to Big Thief
“I’m a big fan of Adrianne Lenker and I always enjoyed that she played semi-hollow guitars with P-90s in it. I thought it was cool to have the reversal of the hollowbody archetype with P-90s instead of humbuckers,” admits Cornelison. This D’Angelico Deluxe DC features a set of Seymour Duncan STK-P1 Stacked P-90s and is serial #3.
Grandfathered Gibson
Original guitarist and cofounding member Mike “McDuck” Olson left this ’50s Les Paul Standard (finished in Heritage Cherry Sunburst) for Cornelison to use in his absence. James remarks that this electric does the bulk of the work when the full band is represented.
Twinkly Twilighter
On this subdued set, Cornelison plugged all his electrics into the above Magnatone Twilighter 112 combo.
James Cornelison's Pedalboard
This dialed-in setup was designed and built by longtime Jason Isbell tech Michael Bethancourt. Cornelison has onstage control of everything via the RJM Mastermind GT. Also, out front is a Boss TU-3 Chromatic Tuner and an Ernie Ball VP Jr volume pedal. His two-drawer rack holds the following pedals: a Source Audio EQ2 Programmable Equalizer, a JHS SuperBolt V2, a Behringer US600 Ultra Shifter/Harmonist, a JHS Colour Box V2, a Keeley Katana Clean Boost, JHS Morning Glory, and a Strymon Flint & Deco. Everything is powered by a pair of Strymon Zuma units. Additionally, an RJM Mini Effect Gizmo MIDI controller helps organize the signal paths.
These 1966 "Speed Bump" pickups appeared on Kay and other private-label instruments.
Our columnist ponders the evolution of private-label guitar manufacturing.
Tribal alliances are a big part of American life. Football fans at tailgate parties paint their faces and dance around the barbecue grill like Vikings revving up for a raid. Dad-buddy elders recount the legends of past glories to their daughters and sons, passing on the oral history of rising from defeat to ultimately lifting the trophy. It's all about the brand. The truth of the matter is that the team the kids will worship is not the team of their ancestors. The players are different, the coaches are new, the team has been sold and moved—maybe twice. We all want to belong, and everyone loves a good story, but what actually makes an authentic brand?
In the world of durable goods, not every brand is a manufacturer. In fact, most are just middlemen. Their wares are referred to as private label or branded merchandise. Chances are you have a lot of products that are made in a shop or factory that isn't owned or even operated by the company whose logo is on the package—or headstock. These items are purchased in bulk from an actual manufacturer who applies the brand's decal or label as needed. Today, most of those suppliers are in Asia, where the cost of manufacturing is still a fraction of what it is here in the States. Eastern Europe also has a handful of factories that produce a wide variety of string instruments of very good quality. There are jobbers that operate in the U.S., but the cost is higher for the middleman.
Of course, this is nothing new. Violin and guitar makers have provided private-label instruments for large music stores in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Chicago since the 19th century. But none of this approached the scale of private label building that began in the mid 20th century.
By the 1960s, Chicago had become the country's epicenter for musical instrument manufacturing, and much of it was private-label business. The Kay company made a very successful line of guitars under their own name, but also provided production for over 50 other brands. Valco produced amplifiers under their own name, but most of their business was for customers such as Supro, Airline, and National. The same is true for the Harmony company, who had become the world's largest maker of guitars.
Chances are you have a lot of products that are made in a shop or factory that isn't owned or even operated by the company whose logo is on the package—or headstock.
Chicago was also home to Sears and Roebuck, the Amazon of the day. Harmony sought to increase their sales by providing Silvertone-branded instruments to Sears for their stores and immense catalog business. In the 1960s, Harmony was said to have cranked out 10 million instruments for over 50 different brands. Obviously, there was a lot of overlap going on between suppliers, and for the most part consumers weren't aware of any of this.
In 1975, I attended the liquidation auction at the Harmony factory at 4600 South Kolin Avenue in Chicago. The space was jaw-droppingly huge and stacked to the rafters with guitar bodies and necks. Piles of bridges, tailpieces, pickups, and tuning machines were laid out on old woodworking equipment covered in dust. What had happened? The musicians in my circle weren't surprised that the good ship Harmony had run aground. Their reputation for being a mid-standard, department store/catalog brand didn't appeal to what the current crop of pickers wanted.
The other factor was that budget brands from Japan were undercutting prices and raising quality. It was the beginning of a new cycle. When Harmony and Kay exited the private-label business, it allowed the Japanese builders to leap into the breach. It wasn't too long before new names like Morris, Kramer, H.S. Anderson, Hohner, Blade, and a host of others were being issued from the Moridaira factory in Matsumoto. Japanese brands like Ibanez, Aria, ESP, and others followed with their own copycat instruments, filling the need for bargain-priced guitars. As we all know, some of these brands have managed to avoid a fate like Harmony's—so far—by creating their own story and style, while others have been sold, then sold again, until now they are just a revised and repeated story from long ago.
Today, there is a renaissance of small brands in the U.S.—some of it fueled by DIY enthusiasts, homebound by the global pandemic. Unlike prior times, there are plenty of places to buy pre-made parts or even whole guitars. Now, anyone with a little mechanical knowledge and a credit card can order, assemble, and market their own private-label guitars, pedals, amps, or strings. It's a good time to be a guitarist and a good time for small brands. Are they authentic? I'm not sure what that even means, but time will tell if they have a good story.
Killer pickups and slim, light, high-quality construction distinguish a very evolved Harmony.
Distinctive pickup tones. Biting trebles that still ring. High-quality build. Light weight. Slim profile. Super comfortable.
Some imbalance between high-end and low-end volume and energy. Prone to neck dive with some straps.
$1,499
Harmony Comet
harmony.co
Followers of current events might be astonished to learn that the internet isn't quite as effective at separating myth from fiction as its early advocates and creators promised. I was reminded of this state of affairs whilst sniffing out sentiments about vintage Harmony guitars and the complex, convoluted world of gold-foil pickups. Needless to say, there are a lot of strong opinions out there—from advocates that defend old Harmonys as underrated, to snobs who still consider them universally substandard, to the growing cult of gold-foil fanatics who sing their praises to the sky without even agreeing about what a gold-foil pickup is.
Why do I mention this in the context of reviewing a brand-new Harmony instrument? Because the modern Harmony—now a division of BandLab Technologies—is again defying myth and easy categorization in a fashion that's likely to divide opinion just like the old Harmony did.
Recorded with a black panel Fender Tremolux into a Universal Audio OX black panel Fender Deluxe cabinet emulation into a Universal Audio Apollo Twin and Universal Audio Luna.
The three passages are played on the bridge, combined, and neck pickups respectively.
The U.S.-made Comet reviewed here is perfectly emblematic of how tricky reviving a brand and navigating those old myths can be. It's a beautifully built guitar—on par, in quality terms, with many higher-mid-price and high-end electrics. It's a distinctive visual presence in a world of lookalikes. And it sounds freaking great, too, dishing inspiring, mold-breaking, humbucking tones that prompt new musical directions as you play. For some, the Harmony name will probably conjure pawn shop associations that could make the near-$1,500 price tag tough to swallow. For more open-minded players, the Comet could be a tantalizing path away from the same-old-electric rut. My guess is that for those who spend real time with the Comet, the latter scenario is much more likely.
Feathered Flight
The semi-hollow Comet design does not slavishly adhere to any chapter in Harmony history. In fact, to my knowledge, there has never been a Harmony quite like the Comet. Though some have likened it to Harmony's H72, 75, and 77 from the 1960s, the horns are a bit pointier and it's much smaller—evoking Gibson's downsized ES-339 and some of Vox's underrated semi-hollows from the early 2010s. There are many upsides to a semi-hollow guitar of this size. For starters, it's very light, at about six pounds, which significantly minimizes playing fatigue whether standing or sitting. The slim profile also helps make the guitar feel effortless to hold.
If there's a downside to the light weight, it's that there's not much mass to counteract the gravity working on the headstock. Throw the extra ounces from the locking tuners into that equation and you have a guitar that's a bit prone to neck dive, depending on the strap you use. (My usual Ace-style straps exacerbated the problem, but a wider leather strap did much to offset the tendency toward slippage.)
Soaring on Wings of Foil
The Comet's relatively compact dimensions and light weight accentuate the guitar's already impressive playability. Our review guitar showed up with the action almost too low, but once I'd made a couple quick bridge and intonation adjustments, the Comet felt fast and responsive under my fingers. The 12" radius, medium-jumbo frets and 25" scale conspire to lend an almost Gibson-like feel, even though the neck profile has more than a trace of Fender shape and slimness. For many players it will be a perfect blend of ingredients. And apart from the tight cutaway making access to the highest frets difficult, it tends to invite very exploratory playing.
The pickups certainly exhibit many of the most coveted attributes of classic gold-foils
The Comet is a quality instrument by any standard. Evidence of attention to detail is everywhere. The complex compound curves that occur at the point where the arched back and the set neck joint come together are especially pretty. The honey-and-amber-hued nitrocellulose finish is lovely, too, revealing much of the mahogany body's subtle, wavy grain. Some nods to Harmony history feel less at home here—particularly the inverted peanut butter cup tone and volume knobs. They look authentically vintage (apart from the bleached white appearance), but feel a little plasticky and inexpensive compared to the excellent materials used elsewhere. They are, however, brilliantly placed for volume swells and quick tone adjustments. The sturdy pickup switch is smartly situated, too—safely out of the way of aggressive strumming motions, but close at hand for the switches you intend to make.
The most individual aspects of the Comet's performance are manifested via the excellent pickups. Harmony calls these humbuckers gold-foils, a wide and largely misunderstood pickup category than can be a great many things. The company is coy about what lurks beneath the covers. But in purely sonic terms, the pickups certainly exhibit many of the most-coveted attributes of classic gold-foils.
The most striking tones come from the bridge pickup. Here you'll find biting sounds that would make a Telecaster blush. But while the most trebly tones are cutting and loud, there is still a little softness and compression at the peakiest edge of the transients and they retain a bell-like resonance that keeps these toppy tones thrilling and rich without singeing eardrums. They also do a wonderful job of exciting spring reverb and fuzz effects. The super-present and punchy top end and high-mids from these pickups mean they can seem to overpower the low end at times. Personally, I loved the balance between the two ends of the spectrum, and appreciated the fact that I could extract distinct and not-too-muddy bass counterpoint that sustained without sounding boomy in the way some PAF-style humbuckers can. But I'd guess that, ultimately, even dyed-in-the-wool adherents to Gibson- and Fender-style tone recipes could really warm to the unique balance between present high-end and more concise, subdued bottom that you get from these pickups. They are a very intriguing alternative to those very familiar sounds—especially when you add in the out-of-phase mode available via the push/pull volume knob.
The Verdict
I played the Comet alongside several electrics, and was always knocked out by how distinct and unique it can sound. Studio hounds could conceivably find it indispensable for its ability to dish super-sizzling and clear treble tones that still sing. They'll probably also love the mellow, balanced, and slightly compressed semi-hollow neck pickup tones that never seem to overpower with boomy resonances.
Harmony may have some image-building work to do to overcome biases from snoots and trolls that associate the brand with pawn shop bargains. And the $1,499 price may well be a touch on the high side of the high-mid-price spectrum for some. But given that we've seen a lot of good Asia- and Mexico-built instruments creep into this price range and higher, it's certainly not an exorbitant tag for a well-crafted, U.S.-built instrument with so many truly distinctive tones.