At Robert’s Western World, Chris Casello can play through his beloved Vibrolux without repercussions.
Times, tastes, and technology change, but if you’ve got a good thing going, maybe you don’t have to. And PS: Don’t touch Chris’s Vibrolux!
I’ve been playing guitar for 50 years—in Nashville and on the road—and generally feel like I’ve seen it all from the stage: the drunks, the crazies, the rowdies, and the regulars. But recently, I’ve been a little disturbed by something I haven’t seen: amps on the stages of many Lower Broadway clubs.
Recently, this happened to me.
It’s 10 a.m., and I show up for the first of my two daytime gigs. The sound engineer at the club tells me:
“Rule number one: No amps onstage.”
Me: “Can we just try it?”
Engineer: “No. And in-ear monitors only.”
Since I’m just here as a sub, I don’t argue. I don’t want to cause the bandleader grief or be a pain. I’m told “everybody does it this way now,” and since a professional needs to be adaptable, I adapt.
My next question: “Hey, can you turn off the TV by the stage?”
Engineer: “No, and take your amp off the stage.”
Me: “It’s unplugged.”
Engineer: “I don’t care. I don’t want anybody seeing an amp. I had a guy take a swing at me when I told him he couldn’t use his amp, so I can’t take chances.”
I have to admit, taking a swing at the soundman had crossed my mind, but he’s a biker-type with 75 pounds on me, and a generation younger. That doesn’t seem like a choice a professional should make. So, I take down my 1966 Fender Vibrolux Reverb and settle in for four hours of winging it through an iPad-controlled PA system and borrowed in-ear monitors, followed by another four-hour, no-break gig two blocks further down Broadway.
Really, I’m grateful, despite this embargo on amps. I’m working a lot. I get to play my Telecaster and crack jokes onstage. And I know this is a fickle town for musicians. One day you have nothing, and the next you’re playing the Opry, or in the studio, or flying to Europe.
When I got to Nashville in the early 2000s, Lower Broadway was no longer a red light district, but everybody wanted you to sound like Brent Mason. I didn’t. I played country guitar, but loved rockabilly and wore a pompadour. I also love and play blues, and Scotty Moore, James Burton, Merle Travis, and Chet Atkins are huge with me. Plus, I love Chuck Berry, T-Bone Walker, and Charlie Christian. So, initially it seemed like I didn’t fit into any of the niches bandleaders were looking for. Ultimately, I just wanted to sound like Les Paul and Link Wray. Is there anything wrong with that?
“I have to admit, taking a swing at the soundman had crossed my mind, but he’s a biker-type with 75 pounds on me, and a generation younger.”
Even though it was tough getting hired at first, I stuck to my guns. Eventually the phone started ringing, the work came in, and the phone is still ringing—or at least chiming text alerts. I’m having a good run and have played everywhere from the Opry to Lincoln Center. Plus, I love it here. When I arrived, it was already a pickers’ wonderland—humbling, terrifying, and inspiring. Legendary players would work at little clubs— and still do, although now the mass insanity of intoxicated tourists, bachelorette parties, pedal taverns, etc., is completely out of control. That said, there’s only a couple cities left in America—really, maybe just this one—where you have opportunities to work this frequently.
Ultimately, this “being myself” thing has paid off. Besides the gig I’ve had at Robert’s Western World for 20 years, I’ve backed up legends like Bo Diddley, Martha Reeves, Wanda Jackson (who also cut one of my tunes), and Jack Scott, to name a few. I’ve done sessions, plus lots of gigs with ’90s country stars. I’ve given thousands of lessons, made many European tours with my own bands and others, and I am the longtime guitarist for Carlene Carter (the daughter of June Carter Cash and June’s first husband, Carl Smith). I’m also the demo guy for my friend TV Jones. Say hi at his NAMM booth!
At Robert’s, there are no TVs—only music, beer, shots, and fried bologna sandwiches. Robert’s let me bring my love of surf guitar to the home of country music, anduse my own vintage gear. I can play a hollowbody with P-90s or a Gretsch, Telecaster, or Strat through my Vibrolux or Super Reverb and nobody complains. In fact, everybody loves it. And I get to sound like myself. Which is important, because eventually every musician comes to terms with the fact that they are only competing with themselves and not the world—and being allowed to find and use your own voice is crucial. So, you won’t get a profiler or iPad-controlled guitar app at a Chris Casello Trio show. We are always going to move air and, with it, some hearts, too.Jesse Dayton uses an EP-3, from the first generation of solid-state Echoplex models, on the road and in the studio.
From Page to Eddie to Gilmour, the comparatively impractical Maestro Echoplex has nonetheless served its masters well. And for some, like our 6-stringing contributor, it still does.
Feast your eyes on the missing link. I give you the coolest contraption to ever run between a guitar and an amplifier: the Maestro Echoplex.
The cool factor for this historic piece of gear is so off the chart that I’m always a bit shocked when players, young or old, are not familiar with this marvelous old-school tape-echo device. But no, I’m not writing this to copy and paste Wikipedia stats on this crown jewel of the guitar-pedal world. (However, if your inner nerdom is anything like mine, it’s worthy of a snoop. All of the Echoplexes from 1959 to the late ’70s sound amazing!) I’m writing to profess to all my fellow guitar gear freaks my undying love for something that was used on so many historical recordings that it’s mind-blowing. And while a big box with an analog tape loop might not be your idea of a great ride-along pal on tour, or even in the studio, truth is, there is nothing else exactly like an authentic Echoplex.
Do you remember the first time you heard that huge swelling repeat sound at the end of “Eruption” by Van Halen? Echoplex. How about the heaviness of Jimmy Page’s guitar on “Moby Dick” by Led Zeppelin? That’s a cranked Echoplex preamp, mis amigos!
The Echoplex design is pretty simple, which is one reason why it’s so iconic. It has actual tape that runs on the top of the unit, records your sound, then plays it back. Remember 8-track tape players? Yeah, kind of like that—except for the recording part. You just crank the slide in the middle—at least on the solid-state EP-3 model that I own—to make the delay effect go fast or slow. It’s not rocket science. But it does also work as a preamp and will enhance the tone of the guitar coming out of your amp like no other unit. Eric Johnson, for example, travels with one in a rack, sans tape, just so he can use the preamp for his classic tone. The Echoplex preamp basically boosts and compresses your signal, fattening it up and providing some EQ trickery that will have guitar players unfamiliar with the device’s charms scratching their heads.
The original Echoplexes come in four flavors: the EP-1, EP-2, EP-3, and EP-4. The EP-1 is the O.G.—the first tape delay ever, with a moving tape head that allows the delay time to be changed. It was made from ’59 to ’62, when the next generation of ’Plex, called the EP-2, not only gave the tape head more mobility but protected the tape itself in a cartridge. The solid-state version was the EP-3, which was used by Van Halen, Page, Tommy Bolin, and Brian May, among others. The EP-4 offered an output buffer to improve impedance-matching with other gear. Today, you can find early generation Echoplexes for anywhere from $1,400 to nearly $2,000, and the EP-3 and EP-4 are in the $600 to $1,500 range, depending on condition.
“I have all kinds of analog delay pedals but none of them compare to the Echoplex.”
There are related devices out there that some vintage-tone-inclined players, like Brian Setzer, prefer. The Roland Space Echo is one, and there’s the Binson Echorec. They’re easier for traveling because the Space Echo has a more efficient tape transport system and the Binson records on a drum rather than a length of tape. David Gilmour from Pink Floyd was a fan of the Echorec. But just remember, it is the original Echoplex sound those models were built to emulate. And both of those artists also used original Echoplex units on a few of their classic recordings.
Sure, you can buy some newfangled digital pedal that tries to recreate the Echoplex, but what fun is there in that? Where’s the potential for tape snarls or the manual cleaning required? After owning several EP-3 Echoplexes and using them in recording studios on countless tracks, touring all over the world with one in cars, vans, RVs, buses, and planes, I can tell you nothing replicates or enhances your tone like an EP-3. And if you do roll out with one, don’t forget Q-tips and a bottle of rubbing alcohol to clean the tape heads when they get dirty. If that doesn’t sound like a good time, then I guess you don't wanna get the sound that fattened up the guitars in power trios like Joe Walsh’s James Gang or on Billy Gibbons’ first five ZZ Top albums.
I have all kinds of analog delay pedals but none of them compare to the Echoplex. Remember, a cool thing about owning vintage gear is not that it’s a piece of handcrafted history, but knowing that Leo Fender or Les Paul himself, or, in this case, Echoplex designer Mike Battle, is never making another one like the one that you own. Don't get overwhelmed or anxious by projecting what could go wrong with it. Get excited about having a piece of gear that can make your guitar sound like almost every classic-rock, blues, and country record ever made.