may 2010

Nik Huber proves he can do stripped-down rock as well as he can do ultra-high-end



Pop quiz: Germany’s Nik Huber is ________.
A. A luthier known among boutique guitar enthusiasts for his opulent tops and lavish appointments and inlay work
B. A heckuva guitar player and a heckuva nice guy
C. A luthier who builds no-nonsense guitars for serious players
D. All of the above

The answer, of course, is D (I didn’t say it was a trick pop quiz). The fact that Huber is a player probably has a lot to do with the fact that all the guitars he and his team make are serious business, whether they’re lavish instruments or not. That’s not to say that those who don’t play guitar can’t make a great guitar—there’s plenty of evidence to shoot down that claim—but simply that Huber and his crew must know firsthand that if the guitar doesn’t deliver the good stuff during a performance, it’s bound to end up neglected no matter how good it looks. And that’s likely the reason why so many Huber fans have welcomed without hesitation his more recent venture into models that embody a no-frills, minimalist aesthetic. Even though he’s turned some of his attention (but not all of it) away from those gorgeous tops and toward more bare-bones rockers— like his classic take on the Junior and Special or his Huberian twist on the Tele with the Twangmeister—they know Nik Huber guitars will still manifest the same uncommon quality that came with the Dolphin and Orca guitars. Now make way for the Krautster.

Ich Bin Krautster
It’s simplest to say that Huber’s intention to disguise the Krautster as a purely plain and practical guitar hasn’t entirely succeeded, because despite the humble, stripped-down look the guitar portrays to an audience, it still betrays enough conspicuous craftsmanship to treat the eyes, hands and ears of the player who straps it on. The overall look is an understated cool, with its worn, satin-black finish and tastefully cut three-ply pickguard. The single Custom Humbucker, made by Häussel, is housed in an aged nickel cover to match the look of the aged Nik Huber aluminum stoptail bridge. The only other feature on the face of the guitar is the single black bell Volume knob. The Krautster is not exactly “adorned” the way some of Huber’s guitars are. Look a little closer, though, and thoughtful details appear. The cream binding matches the cream pickup mounting ring and the expertly cut bone nut, the dot inlays are abalone, and the fretwork appears to be perfect.

Each piece of wood that makes up the guitar is beautiful. The Indian rosewood fretboard is richly hued and the mahogany body slab has a subtle figuring that’s brought out by the open-pore finish. The curly maple neck is simply stunning—like nothing we’ve seen—and is oh-so comfortable despite its thickness (.88" at the first fret and .96" at the 12th) because of its smooth satin finish and low shoulders, almost like the softest V you can imagine. Because of Nik Huber’s sculpted heel joint—an understated but elegant design in itself—access to the upper frets is much easier than I anticipated in a body style of this type.

How Do you Say “Gadzooks!” auf Deutsch?
When the Krautster arrived at our doorstep, the cold of winter was still upon us, so we let it acclimate before opening the shipping container. It was a difficult wait. When it came out of the case, the Krautster was expertly set up and still in tune, so we decided to skip ahead of the ordinary review preliminaries and plug it straight into an Orange Tiny Terror combo. Dialing the Gain down and diming the Volume with the Tone at around noon, the Krautster delivered a great kerrang! with its first big, open chord. The single humbucker is pretty hot, and the first tone it produced with the Volume rolled all the way was too bright. After lowering the pickup by just a few turns of the adjustment screws, we returned to the amp and were rewarded with pure, ballsy rock ’n’ roll crunch—tight and defined but with great string detail. In the absence of a Tone control, we found the best balance of frequencies came with the Volume knob rolled off just slightly from maximum. We were fairly certain, at that point, that we could detect the Krautster sneering at the other guitars in the room.

Moving back to preliminary steps like playing the guitar unplugged for a long while did not prove disappointing. In fact, the guitar surprised us with the quality of its unamplified voice. Each string rings out pure and clear, and with a detectable zing that exposes the level of its construction. Other welcome features for this reviewer are the compound radius fretboard (10" to 14"), which makes less work out of different kinds of playing, and the 25" scale length, which keeps the strings from giving as much as with the other humbucker-equipped, set-neck single-cut guitars I’m used to. Testing it with other amps revealed it to be a guitar that’s all about just what Huber claims: “the essence of rock.” It’s best clean tones are most easily achieved by dialing the amp’s gain and volume high and riding the guitar’s Volume on its lowest settings. Raising the volume a touch to add some dirt produces a full-bodied, low-gain crunch that sets a standard. The Häussel Custom Humbucker is extremely sensitive to touch and playing dynamics—though it should be noted that it tends more toward a modern rock sound than a vintage one. With the volume full up (or nearly so), and plenty of gain on the amp, the Krautster simply shines.

That’s enough of a recommendation right there, but the Krautster has one more trick up its sleeve. Pulling up on the Volume knob splits the humbucker into a single-coil—the same heat and the same sensitivity, but leaner and meaner, with great bite. Set for single-coil operation and running through the Top Boost channel of an AC30 with a decent amount of gain, the guitar was at once both delicate and fierce, capable of scorching, single-note leads but still yielding a ring and shimmer with lighter strumming or fingerpicked chords. Coil splitting is a common enough feature these days, but few guitars display such different personalities on the basis of that feature alone.

The Final Mojo
When all is said and done, Nik Huber’s Krautster is clearly a rockmobile, but it’s not as “plain Jane” as it might appear. It has more than its fair share of grace. It’s a thrill to play and to hear, and there is no doubt it was made to be put to regular use. The double-action truss rod received only one minor adjustment as the warmer weather began to take hold, so it’s also apparent the guitar holds a setup quite well. If I had to point to one reservation, I would say I lament the lack of a Tone control— but that’s only because I suspect there’s a remarkable woman tone lurking in that Häussel pickup, and it’s housed in a guitar that would showcase that kind of tone perfectly, both visually and aurally. Nik Huber truly is one heckuva nice guy, though, so I’m willing to bet he’d put one in if you really wanted him to.
Buy if...
you want one of the most finely crafted rockers available.
Skip if...
you need a ten top or lots of pickups and knobs.
Rating...


Street $2680 - Nik Huber - nikhuber-guitars.com

The solo legend and lead guitarist comes clean on his beloved Jazzmaster, why he hates class A amps, and his 13-year-old inner shredder.



Nels Cline sums up his love for guitar simply and definitively: “I just love sound. That’s the main thing I like about being in a rock band— the sound is surrounding me, and it’s inherently exciting to me.” That’s a remarkable statement for a musician who has recorded professionally for nearly 35 years.

Born in Los Angeles in 1956, the self-taught Cline initially reveled in the sounds of ’60s rock and jazz, and he lists Peter Frampton, Jeff Beck, and especially Jimi Hendrix as influences. The reason you’re reading about him today is because he pursues experiment like few others, as evidenced most recently by the buzzing, queasy ambiance of “Thurston County” (off his 2009 release Coward) and the frantic, Latin rock-inspired soloing in “King Queen” off his brand-new Nels Cline Singers album Initiate.

Cline joined Wilco in 2004—and it’s been his highest- profile gig by far—but he was already a prolific guitarist before that, with a discography of more than 100 albums. In addition to having two top 5 records with Wilco, he has put his lovingly detailed playing on releases by Mike Watt, Thurston Moore, and Quartet Music, among others.

Whether he’s playing in Wilco or an avant-jazz side project, Cline melds rich, tone-color creations with slashing, climatic solos that are both fiery and beautiful. And a lot of that has to do with the fact that he’s a bona fide pedal addict and gear guru. He sat down with PG before a recent Wilco gig to talk about his affinity for “ugly duckling” guitars, his secret passion for shredding, and why he’ll never, ever put down his Jazzmaster.

Is it true Jimi Hendrix inspired you to pursue guitar?

Yeah—I was already thinking about it, though, because I was into The Byrds, and my twin brother, Alex, was listening to the Rolling Stones all the time. We were becoming rock ’n’ roll obsessed, and we were buying records with our allowance every two weeks. When Are You Experienced came out, it looked incredibly cool, but we had bought records based on how cool they looked before and they weren’t always great. But then I heard “Manic Depression” on AM radio—which was really amazing considering “Purple Haze” was supposed to be the single at that time—and that was the moment I decided it was going to be guitar forever. It was just the most magical moment.

Who are some of your favorite guitarists?

It’s a huge list. Roger McGuinn from The Byrds, John McLaughlin, Jim Hall, Tom Verlaine. Many of them were influential when I was a boy or teenager, like Duane Allman and Steve Howe. I was really influenced by Peter Frampton when he was in Humble Pie. Also Robert Fripp, Wes Montgomery and, of course, Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo from Sonic Youth. I also think Jeff Tweedy is one of the most underrated guitarists. John Dieterich of Deerhoof and Jeff Parker in Tortoise are great guitar players. These are my friends, but I admire what they do. I’m just a music fan and a guitar fan. Jeff Beck and Jimi Hendrix were my main guys when I was 12 or 13, but I find myself drawn to Beck’s playing now more than ever. I don’t necessarily mean all his records; it’s just his guitar playing is so phenomenal and innovative and expressive that I find myself thinking about it a lot, especially when I’m playing a rock song. I was also very much influenced by John Coltrane.


Cline and one of his prized 1959 Jazzmasters. Photo by Anne Erickson.
Was it a surprise when Rolling Stone named you one of 20 “New Guitar Gods”?

It was definitely surprising. I don’t think I can take things like that seriously, but it was a fun thing to tell my mom when she was alive then. I don’t think she could really wrap her mind around the whole idea of it, but she knew it was good.

Aside from Wilco, you always have plenty of solo projects going. Of all the projects and releases coming out in 2010, which are you most excited to see come to fruition?

Probably the new record by my trio, The Nels Cline Singers. It’s called Initiate, and it’s a double CD: one studio disc, and one live. The studio CD is a little bit different stylistically—a little more groovy—and I use my voice on some of the songs, which I haven’t done before. And then there’s the live CD recorded in San Francisco at Café Du Nord that’s sort of our usual mayhem. So I’m excited about that, for sure.

Do you use the same guitars in both Wilco and your solo projects?

Pretty much. Oftentimes, I’m traveling and I can only bring one guitar. But sometimes I like to get kind of swanky. I did this record last year called Coward, and it’s an overdubbed record of me doing everything. I used a lot of guitars from my home studio on that, so that was an opportunity for me to use things I don’t normally use.

Sounds fun—which guitars did you use for that?

Well, Coward didn’t really involve “swanky” guitars—just a lot of layers of mostly cheap ones, like Silvertone and Truetone acoustics. My ‘70s vintage Taylor 12-string that I bought new in 1978 was crucial to “Rod Poole’s Gradual Ascent to Heaven,” however, and it’s pretty swanky! But my attempts to use my lovely 1960 Gretsch Tennessean or ‘66 Gibson Firebird with Wilco have so far been unsuccessful. Jazzmasters and Jaguars, plus oddities like Hopf and Magnatone guitars, seem to serve me better.

How many guitars do you own?

You know, I’m actually not sure, because I didn’t used to own a lot of guitars before I joined Wilco. Jeff Tweedy is a terrible influence on me [laughs]. I might have about 45. Some of that is a necessity of duplication, because I spend so much time with Wilco in Chicago. But I live in Los Angeles, so I’ve had to amass amps, pedals and guitars in both places so I don’t have to fly with all this stuff.

What are some of your standout pieces, besides the Jazzmaster?

I’m kind of drawn to what I call these “ugly duckling” guitars or strange ’60s flights of fancy and rather odd instruments—and also inexpensive instruments. I find the couple of swanky guitars I’ve bought from friends just don’t work for me. They’re too nice or something [laughs]. Then there’s also my old Martin 00-17 acoustic, my old Taylor 12-strings from the ’70s, and my Jaguars. I have a 1962 Jaguar that I bought in the ’90s at Black Market Music for $300. I had it painted with a picture of [fashion model] Kristen McMenamy. I kind of adored her whole vibe at the time—I liked that she was older than all those other girls and just came along with this androgynous look. I played that on “Hummingbird” and some of the more country numbers because it has a nice twang. My 1969 Jaguar is my most “rock” guitar. It’s silver with a mirror pickguard, and it has a Charlie Christian pickup in the neck position and a Seymour Duncan Antiquity wound especially to compete and blend with the Charlie Christian pickup in the bridge position [laughs]. It’s hilarious, but it has this beefy sound because of the pickup configuration. It was an eBay guitar, and it was a complete mess. I had no idea it would be so good. I use that on rhythm parts where I need more gain. I also have some Jerry Jones electric 12-strings and baritone guitars, including a doubleneck baritone that I played on “You Never Know,” the George Harrison tribute. There’s a descending, diminished-chord slide part, and I solo on one neck and then play rhythm on the other, which is such a ridiculous solution I came up with to play that song more reverently to the record. But I joke that I don’t know why I have so many electric guitars, since I could really get by with just the Jazzmaster and be perfectly happy.

How many Jazzmasters do you have?

I have three. The main one is a ’59, and I have a spare onstage that’s black—that’s a ’59, too. And then I have a ’59 in Los Angeles.

What’s the story behind your main ’59 Jazzmaster?

The main one I bought from Mike Watt in 1995. I was playing a Jaguar for many years, and I started playing with Watt in ’90, but even more in ’94 when I recorded on his first solo record, Ball-Hog or Tugboat? I played my Jaguar, but I was fascinated with these Jazzmaster guitars after hearing Tom Verlaine of Television and Sonic Youth using these guitars. Also, I wanted the strings behind the bridge. It’s funny, they were joke guitars when I was a kid, so I didn’t really consider them—but I should have, because they were affordable. That’s why Sonic Youth played them: they were cheap. When I realized the Jazzmaster had not just the different pickups but also a slightly longer string length, I thought, “Wow, that could really work.” Then, I saw my friend Joe Baiza playing in Santa Monica, and Joe was playing this Jazzmaster instead of his usual sunburst Stratocaster. So I asked, “Joe, where did you get that guitar?” And he said, “It’s Watt’s.” So I asked Watt about it, and it turns out he was lending it to Joe because Joe was getting his Strat refretted. We were about to go on tour, so I said, “You know, I think this guitar could be better for me. I could dig into it a little bit more and get more sound.” Watt said, “Well, just take it on the road. And then when we’re done with the tour just buy it from me, because I don’t need it.” He had kind of snaked it from J Mascis when he was on tour with Dinosaur Jr., or J had played it and didn’t like it. So, I played it on tour, and at the end of the tour I got paid and bought it. I remember at the time thinking, “Ouch, it’s 800 dollars.” Now I think they’re about six or seven thousand.

Why did you think the Jazzmaster’s slightly longer string length could work for you?


It feels more solid and taut, which I like because I play pretty hard. I don’t often like light or mushy setups because I tend to really dig in sometimes.


Cline’s stable of live guitars: Jazzmasters, Jaguars, Bill Nash Tele-style, and Jerry Jones oddities. Photo by Anne Erickson
Why is having the strings behind the bridge important to you?

It makes the palette so much broader. I remember hearing that sound on Sonic Youth records, especially around that time when there was a lot of good detuned rock going on in the No Wave scene. If the bridges are set right, then I have some specific notes I can play behind the bridge, and it has a bell-like resonance. I can also really distort it. I can just rip behind the bridge and create the sound of tearing or horrible shrieking. I don’t know why I like those kinds of sounds, but I do. Sometimes, just before a big chord, I like to swipe behind the strings and then hit the chord so it creates this splaying effect. It’s just part of my sound. I’m lost without it. It’s no fun to play other guitars for a whole night because I’m so used to being able to go to certain sounds like that.

Did you ever imagine that Jazzmaster would become your main guitar?


Not at all. I didn’t realize at first that it was one of the best-sounding Jazzmasters. I used to just throw the thing around mercilessly. Then I realized it was a really great year for them and a great instrument. But you know, there’s not that much original left on the guitar, because I’ve broken everything. It was painted black, but there’s not much paint left on it. I’ve ripped it to shreds. I’ve actually gouged a gully behind the bridge from playing so hard. It does have the original pickups, tremolo and slapboard neck— meaning it’s a big, thick piece of rosewood instead of veneer. It’s got a beautiful sound.

Premier Guitar’s maxim is “the relentless pursuit of tone.” What do you think constitutes good tone?

It’s just a personal choice. I think if you can manifest the sound you’re hearing in your head, then you have your tone. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s somebody else’s idea of good tone. For example, I’m always trying to get rid of treble. I try to find some rich low-mids, and that’s why I have this Tim Schroeder amp that I play right now. He designed it with that in mind for me. I find a lot of these class A, handwired, point-topoint amps are very, very treble-y, and I don’t know if it’s the speaker choices or what, but I cannot deal with the sound of those amps, personally. But somebody else can come along and play with a treble-y sound and sound fantastic. Everybody has a different idea about how they feel sound and music. I have a lot of pedals that give me certain tones, so that’s the same pursuit. It’s the same dream and vision: just trying to find things that satisfy what I’m hearing in my head.


Cline’s pedalboard for Wilco shows. Photo by Anne Erickson
What’s on your pedalboard right now?

The Wilco pedalboard is a little different from what I use for my own music in that it has a lot more distortion boxes. But the things I always use, in every kind of music, are a Boss volume pedal, the Klon Centaur overdrive, a Boss CS-3 compressor pedal that everyone laughs at me for using because they think it’s bad and I love it, a Z. Vex Fuzz Factory, and my Electro-Harmonix 16-Second Digital Delay from the ’80s.

Let’s talk about Wilco. On the new record, there seem to be more layers. Would you say this is more of a studio record than previous releases?

Absolutely. I think that was Jeff’s concept from the very beginning. He wanted to take the opposite approach of Sky Blue Sky, which is essentially live performances. The basics for Wilco (The Album) were recorded in New Zealand, and I wasn’t even there.

You have a lot of killer guitar duels on your records now—as well as live. What do you like most about playing in a three-guitar band?

I just think it’s a great sound. More than one guitar is always the best way to go. I think it’s so attractive to me because I like the sound of the guitars slightly and naturally chorusing together. The timbre becomes much richer. In Wilco, Pat [Sansone] mostly plays Telecasters, and he uses the bridge pickup a lot and has more twang going on. Onstage, Jeff is playing some Telecasters but he’s got his Gibson SGs up there and whatnot, too. And then I have my sound. I think the sound of all that together can be powerful. For example, on something like “Impossible Germany,” when we have three electric guitars up, the potential for richness is exponentially greater. And somehow the arrangement works and we manage to stay out of each other’s way. It was very carefully arrived at, but I don’t think we knew it was going to be so successful. I think it maybe means we’ll do more three-guitar things.

Is there any kind of music you play that might surprise people?

Well, I had a band for a while that wasn’t supposed to play live and it was called Destroy All Nels Cline. There were four electric guitars, bass, and percussion. I also had plans for a band called Headstock, which would be kind of a hardcore, fast fusion, punk-rock kind of band with a lot of three-guitar songs. I don’t know if I’ll ever get that Headstock music written, though. I’m just so busy. But it’s a total shred band.

Sounds cool. You should do it!

Yeah, I still wiggle my fingers around and do these shred-like things, because I think that’s exciting. When I heard Jimi Hendrix or John McLaughlin or George Benson as a boy, I got really hyper listening to that prodigious technique, but only because it sounded like it meant something. It wasn’t just a display of some gymnastic-like ability. But, I still hear a million notes in my head when I try to shred. Maybe it just appeals to my inner-13-year old [laughs]. I don’t do a lot of shredding in Wilco. It’s much harder and more important to play economically and play the right thing for the song. I feel my goal for Wilco is to be part of the orchestra. If there’s a time to amp things up, then maybe the shred thing comes in handy.

Cline’s Schroeder DB7 amp, ‘69 Fender Jaguar (left), BilT Jazzmaster-style, and ‘62 Jaguar (right). Photo by Anne Erickson

How important is instinct when playing guitar?


I think that in music in general, and particularly as an improviser, it’s crucial to trust in one’s instincts. I think that one can hone those instincts with the knowledge that comes with studying theory or ear training and by just paying attention. It’s about listening beyond your instrument. In other words, while you’re playing, you’re hearing everybody, not just yourself. I think if that’s happening, then your instincts are razor sharp— and that’s crucial to being a good improviser.

What’s your advice for guitarists?

Well, if my life or experience means anything, it shows that persistence and patience might be the ticket to playing guitar or doing anything. I played music for a really long time. I wasn’t really playing commercial music. I didn’t try to “succeed.” But my life is beautiful now. I’m making great music and I have great opportunities to play. Lots of people won’t make it all the way down that road, and they’ll give up—because it’s hard. So, if I do have a message, it would have to be that if you really love sound as much as somebody like me, just hang in there.

Dying to know what’s in Nels Cline’s rig for the 2010 Wilco world tour? We’ve got the lowdown below.


Nels Gearbox
Guitars:
Two 1959 Fender Jazzmasters with original pickups and a Mastery bridge designed by John “Woody” Woodland
Chambered, all-rosewood Jazzmaster-style guitar made by Bill Henss and Tim Thelen of BilT Guitars in Des Moines, Iowa
1962 Fender Jaguar
1969 Fender Jaguar with Charlie Christian neck pickup and Seymour Duncan Antiquity bridge pickup
Jerry Jones Neptune “Shorty” Octave 12-string
Jerry Jones Neptune 12-string with three pickups
Jerry Jones double-neck baritone
2009 Bill Nash Tele-style “He makes them out of kit parts and puts Lollar pickups on them, which are really good for Telecasters, and then he relics them.”
Gibson BR-9 lap steel National lap steel

Amps:
Custom Schroeder DB7 built by Tim Schroeder of Schroeder Guitar & Amp Repair in Chicago
Marshall JTM45 2x12 reissue given to him by Jeff Tweedy

Effects:
Boss DD-3 Digital Delay
Boss VB-2 Vibrato Boss AB-2 2-Way Selector
Boss volume pedal Boss CS-3 Compression Sustainer
Crowther Audio Hotcake Zoom UF-01 Ultra-Fuzz
JAM Pedals Rattler
Fulltone ’69 Fuzz
Fulltone Deja Vibe
DigiTech Whammy
Electro-Harmonix Pulsar Klon Centaur
MXR Phase 45
Z. Vex Fuzz Factory
The Last Temptation of Boost (made by Alan Yee in Memphis)
Original Electro-Harmonix 16-Second Digital Delay
Electro-Harmonix Deluxe Memory Man
Electro-Harmonix Holy Grail Reverb
Korg KP2 KAOSS Pad
Boss TU-2 Chromatic Tuner
Voodoo Lab Pedal Power 2 Plus

Mics & Cables:
Sennheiser e906 dynamic mic
Planet Waves instrument cables

Strings & Picks:
GHS .012s on all six-strings except the Telecaster, which has .011 D’Addario lights on 12-strings
Dunlop Ultex 1.14 mm picks

Straps:
Various custom designs from Souldier Straps
Couch Guitar Straps. “I’ve had neck and shoulder problems, and the Couch strap is vinyl so it seems to be a little more comfy.”

Vox''s least documented amp



Usually, when we refer to gear using the word “mystery,” it’s because we don’t know what the hell it is. But in the case of this Vox, it’s because it truly is a Mystery. Some refer to it as the “AC 20,” but Jim Elyea, author of VOX Amplifiers: The JMI Years, coined the name Mystery Amp.

Several of these apocryphal amps have been found, but none of them have had a matching serial-number plate. They may have been produced by JMI, or they may have been assembled from leftover parts by an unknown person. To quote Elyea, “All we know is that we don’t know.”

Here’s what we do know: The amp has three Goodman 10" speakers, each of which is marked with a red band around the magnet, and they’re set in a lightweight enclosure. This particular amp has many unique features, including an AC10 reverb circuit, a Parmeko transformer, a silkscreened front panel (some versions reportedly have anodized copper panels), and a chassis that’s not cut for a vibrato circuit. Its controls include Volume, Tone, Speed, Depth, and Reverb. It also has two inputs and a voltage selector.

Anyone have more information on this oddity?

Let us know!

Thanks to Rick and Randy of Guitar Hangar for listing this on Gear Search! Whether you’re looking for a vintage piece or a modern take on a classic, chances are it’s on Gear Search. More than 47,000 pieces of gear are listed here, including some of the hardest-to-get gear in the world.