John Mayall plays harmonica live in Amsterdam in 1967, the year in which he released three classic albums—Crusade, A Hard Road, and The Blues Alone–and a year after Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton. Those recordings alone were enough to make him a legend, but much more followed.
Robben Ford surely speaks for many, noting, “The guy has a major place in musical history for embracing, practicing, playing, and promoting the blues in England, and spreading what might have remained a small, cult music form in rural North America to the rest of the world.”
“He holds a position similar to Miles Davis in jazz for opening the door for a lot of deserving talent to be heard, allowing them to go on to brilliant careers.”—Robben Ford
Mayall, who died on July 22, at age 90, grew up in Cheadle Hulme, Cheshire, England. From beginnings with the George Formby banjo and ukulele how-to guide, he sustained a long, prolific career with few equals in blues. In the 2004 documentary John Mayall—Godfather of British Blues, he reflected, “The focus had always been on the road work, rather than hoping for some hit record.”
For better or worse, he was best known for the famous sidemen who passed through his band. As Ford says, “He was the mothering womb for a long line of incredibly influential blues guitarists. He holds a position similar to Miles Davis in jazz for opening the door for a lot of deserving talent to be heard, allowing them to go on to brilliant careers.”
After the live John Mayall Plays John Mayall, with guitarist Roger Dean, 1966’s so-called “Beano” album ushered in essential appearances of Clapton, Peter Green, and Mick Taylor, on the Blues Breakers, A Hard Road, and Crusade albums, respectively
With the release of what’s often called the Beano album, after the comic book Eric Clapton is reading on its cover, both Clapton’s and Mayall’s legendary status were cemented. For at least two generations of players, Clapton’s version of the Freddie King instrumental “Hide Away” was a litmus test for emerging blues guitarists.
The drummer on Beano and its predecessor was Hughie Flint, who emailed, “Meeting John Mayall in 1957 was a special moment in my musical life, resulting in him becoming my mentor, sharing so much music. John was very much the bandleader, and knew what he wanted from his members. But with me, he let me play how I felt. I owe him so much, without which I would never have had a career in music.”
Clapton, Green, and Taylor all played ’Bursts, but their personalities were radically different. Clapton’s aggressive attack and unprecedented sustain from his Marshall JTM45 (later reissued as the Bluesbreaker amp) contrasted with Green’s pin-drop dynamics and Taylor’s long, unhurried lines. When “Clapton Is God” graffiti appeared, the “guitar hero” die was cast forevermore. Each was spotlighted on a Freddie King instrumental, giving their own spins on “Hideaway” (Clapton), “The Stumble” (Green), and “Driving Sideways” (Taylor). While all three “Kings” were influential, Mayall later pointed out that Eric owed the biggest debt to Freddie, Peter was into B.B., and Mick leaned on Albert.
But the succession of guitar greats didn’t stop there. After 1968’s Blues From Laurel Canyon, Taylor joined the Rolling Stones, and Mayall took a radical turn to an acoustic, drummer-less quartet. With saxophonist Johnny Almond and Jon Mark on gut-string, the live Turning Point (featuring the FM-radio hit “Room to Move”) was his best-selling album.
Still eschewing drummers, his next lineup featured Harvey Mandel and electric-violin wizard Sugarcane Harris on USA Union, with drummer Keef Hartley added for Back to the Roots, in ’71. For Memories, that same year, Mayall tapped guitarist Gerry McGee, a veteran of the Ventures, Monkees, and Delaney & Bonnie.
The years 1972 and ’73 produced Jazz Blues Fusion, Moving On, and Ten Years Are Gone, featuring guitarist Freddy Robinson, whose resume embraced Howlin’ Wolf, Little Walter, Quincy Jones, and others. With trumpeter Blue Mitchell, and saxophonists Clifford Solomon and Red Holloway, the albums went a long way in exposing some jazz greats to blues and rock audiences.
John would challenge you to go further as a musician and performer.”—Rick Vito
As Clapton said in the documentary, “He chose me for the way I play; he didn’t tell me what to play.” That was true for 6-stringers in subsequent lineups, including Hi Tide Harris, Randy Resnick, James Quill Smith, Cid Sanchez, Walter Trout, Debbie Davies, and Rocky Athas.
Rick Vito, whose five-album tenure began in ’75, recalls, “John would challenge you to go further as a musician and performer. When we were playing my hometown of Philadelphia, he said, ‘Okay, you’re starting the show,’ and shoved me onstage by myself! I improvised something of a blues suite and got a great response, followed by John and band joining me and starting the normal set, which was also always subject to change.”
In 1968, Mayall retired the Bluesbreakers name for his band, but by the time this photo was taken, in 1995, he’d revived the moniker for a decade, and it would remain in use for the rest of his career.
Coco Montoya was actually a drummer, and had decided his music career was over prior to an impromptu jam. “I started playing guitar at 13, but it was secondary. In ’84, I played at a jam session where John heard me. The Bluesbreakers reunion with Mick was ending, and I got the call. Clapton was a hero to me, and I tried to emulate him and the others as much as I could; I thought that was the job. John took me aside and said, ‘Look, where’s that guy I saw at the jam session? You’re trying to sound like Eric. You’re not Eric. Don’t forget the first law of the blues: interpretation.’ In doing that, he freed me up from trying to be people that I could never be. John never let anything deter him, which helped me a lot in my solo career.”
After Buddy Whittington opened for John in Dallas in ’92, his phone rang the following year, and he was a Bluesbreaker for 15 years. “Most of the time, John would give you ‘about enough rope to hang yourself,’ meaning just play what you feel. If he didn't like where it was going, especially in the studio, he would stick his head in the doorway and say, 'Take this another way’—but that wasn't very often.”
Carolyn Wonderland came onboard in 2018 and played John’s last show in 2022. “It was such a musical education, as well as how to be a bandleader. He gave me board tapes of about 80 songs from different eras, and every night would be a different set; he never wanted it to be the same. And that was the same with the songs. When it came time for your solo, he’d push you until there was some spark. It’s frightening, jumping off the high dive, but it was so freeing, and he was right there behind you, ready. He made everybody reach inside to find out what your inner voice is. It’s like the graduate school of the blues that you never want to graduate from.”
John Mayall - Room To Move (Live)
John Mayall delivers a fast-paced rendition of his sole radio hit, 1969’s “Room to Move,” which originally appeared on the album The Turning Point.
Although his talent scout abilities often overshadowed his own contributions, constant components were the bandleader’s distinctive high vocals, authoritative piano and organ, harmonica in the Sonny Boy Williamson tradition, and quirky guitar, typically slide—often on homemade axes using Burns and Fender parts.
“When it came time for your solo, he’d push you until there was some spark. It’s frightening, jumping off the high dive, but it was so freeing, and he was right there behind you, ready.”—Carolyn Wonderland
Also, his songwriting expanded the repertoire, with songs such as “Have You Heard” and “The Laws Must Change.” “His voice and harmonica playing were unique and, for me, his greatest gifts,” says Ford. “But, just as important, as a composer he wrote some serious, classic blues that will live on with his recordings.”
For championing the blues, Mayall was awarded Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire in 2005. In 2016, he also received an overdue induction into the Blues Music Hall of Fame, and equally about-time recognition came this year with his induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, alongside his British blues forebear, Alexis Korner.
In his liner notes to A Hard Road, Mayall wrote, rather dramatically, “I accept that I’ve unwittingly hurt a lot of people who’ve known me. I’ve few friends left, and now the only thing to live for is the blues.”
That was on his third album, when he was 33. Thirty-five studio and 33 live albums would follow, and he’d live to be 90. Maybe it was hard, but his bandmates would tell you it was also a joyous road.Brothers Chris and Rich Robinson of the Black Crowes have been playing under that name, on and off, for the past 40 years.
That consistency of their rousing brand of rock ’n’ roll—blessed by rhythm and blues swagger, injected with more than a touch of gospel, and steeped in the traditions of American music—was likely buttressed by the reunion tour they set out on to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Shake Your Money Maker in 2021. And, by the fact that at least three of the members—Rich, his brother and lead singer Chris, who co-founded the band, and bassist Sven Pipien—all came up together in Atlanta. It could, above all, come from their pure desire to never stop making music.
The Black Crowes - "Wanting And Waiting"
But at least one of the primary driving forces behind the band’s vitality is Rich Robinson’s guitar playing—distinctive but also familiar in the last 30-plus years of rock; always nuanced and natural, frequently stirring, and just as compelling in blistering electric riffs as it is in delicate and expressive acoustic arrangements. It’s a palette that Robinson has nurtured since his early teens when he first picked up a guitar, and one of the things, of course, that has tied the Crowes’ sound together throughout their long career. It informs Robinson’s solo albums and his work with the Magpie Salute as well.
“There’s always that common thread,” Robinson says over the phone from Nashville. “There’s always the language. There are certain writers and they choose the phrasing or the pacing of how they write, and their paragraphs and their words. A painter, you know; you’ll see people who have a signature to the way they paint. That’s why we love them. In movies you see that same thing. So, all creative endeavors have that element in them. Chris sounds like Chris. He’s never gonna not sound like Chris. And I play like me, and I’m never gonna not sound like me.”
“You’ll see people who have a signature to the way they paint. That’s why we love them.”
With his ear first tuned to his dad’s music of choice—Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Sly Stone, Joe Cocker, Bob Dylan—Robinson eventually started sculpting the beginnings of his own sound with his dad’s 1954 Martin D-28 in the early ’80s (Martin’s Rich Robinson Custom Signature Edition D-28 is based on the same guitar). He gravitated especially toward The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, and remembers the first time he saw Angus Young being impaled by his Gibson SG on the cover of AC/DC’s If You Want Blood You’ve Got It: “There was something really special about it to me. I was drawn to it.” He and Chris listened to a lot of Prince, and got into punk rock, too—X, the Clash, the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, Black Flag. Next came the alternative stuff, like the dB’s, Rain Parade, and fellow Georgians, R.E.M.
Rich Robinson's Gear
A few years ahead of the release of Happiness Bastards, the band reunited in 2021 to embark on the 30th anniversary of the release of their debut album, Shake Your Money Maker.
Photo by Jason Kempin
Guitars
- 1956 Gibson Les Paul Special
- 1959 Gibson Les Paul Junior TV
- Custom Shop Gibson Les Paul Junior
- Bonneville Les Paul Junior
- Bonneville Strat
- 1968 Les Paul Goldtop
- 1961 Gibson ES-335 Cherry
- 1962 Gibson ES-335 Sunburst
- 1968 Gibson ES-335 Cherry
- 1967 Fender Telecaster
- 2015 Custom Shop Black Fender Telecaster
- Custom Shop Sunburst Fender Telecaster
- Custom Shop Fender Telecaster with B-Bender
- 1999 Custom Shop Mary Kay Strat
- 1964 Rickenbacker
- Stephen Stern Custom White Falcon
- Stephen Stern Custom Magpie
- 1969 Dan Armstrong
- 1972 Dan Armstrong 341
- Zemaitis Disc Front
- Zemaitis jumbo acoustic
- Martin D-28 Appalachian
- Martin 0000
- Martin parlor
- Martin 12-string
- 1967 Guild 12-string
- Piers Crocker Crockenbacker
- Gibson Custom Shop Firebird Pelham Blue
- Gibson Firebird
- Gibson Custom Shop Firebird
- Teye El Dorado
Amps
- 1966 Marshall bluesbreaker
- 1968 Marshall bluesbreaker
- 2023 Muswell 50-watt
- 1987 Marshall Silver Jubilee
- 1956 Fender Deluxe
- 1950s Fender White Model 80
- 1971 Marshall JMP 50-watt
- Handwired Vox AC30s
- 1961 Fender Twin
- 2009 Reason Combo
- 1965 Fender Bassman black-panel
Effects
- RJM MIDI Controller
- Ebo Customs E-verb
- Fulltone Tube Tape Echo
- Fulltone Clyde Deluxe Wah
- Lehle volume pedal
- Way Huge Angry Troll
- Way Huge Red Llama
- Black Volt VFUZZ
- Strymon Lex
- Strymon Flint
- JHS Ruby Red RR Overdrive
Strings, Slides & Picks
- D’Addario strings
- D’Addario Rich Robinson signature slides
- Dunlop picks
“And then it kind of worked its way through us back to our foundation, where we loved roots rock ’n’ roll music,” Robinson says. “But all of that journey shaped how I wrote songs. The first thing I did was write songs. You know, I was never someone who just kind of played all day and learned scales and shredded. I always thought the song was the gift. And that was the thing that was lightning in a bottle, so to speak.”
Robinson was never trying to learn everything about the guitar as fast as he could. He played when he wanted to play, which still remains the case. “And every time I play it, I feel joy, because it’s never laborious or forced,” he says. He cautions against the “apprentice effect”—getting stuck in the lines and grooves of the people you learn from and forgetting to explore the untrodden paths you might be interested in. Through his time playing the guitar, he’s picked up something new here, something new there; his learning process has evolved naturally for him, and continues to do so in the present day.
“I always thought the song was the gift. And that was the thing that was lightning in a bottle, so to speak.”
“I think there’s a time when you peak, and then it just kind of starts going down,” Robinson elaborates. “It’s like you’ve learned everything you can on that instrument. And people play that way. You can kind of tell—it’s almost like people know too much. Every time I learn something new, I think about how I can do that in writing a song, first. I’m like, ‘Oh, man, this is great. I can write this into something.’ But then it also expands how you play and how you see the guitar.”
On Happiness Bastards, the Black Crowes sound as strong as ever, proving they haven’t wavered in their rock vitality since their last release in 2009.
All of the disparate influences, filtered through roots and Southern rock traditions, have helped to build a Black Crowes sound that explores plenty of different sonic territory, but remains singularly theirs. Eventually, the direction in which those sounds went became dictated by the tone of the instrument; the right acoustic guitar, with a certain stunning kind of resonation, can bring hundreds of songs out of Robinson, as can the right guitar with the right amp. The tone, for him, has always been an essential part of the overall mosaic of the song, and if the tone isn’t there, the recording can be a letdown regardless of how great the song is. For example, he says, some of Prince’s records—though the songs and the playing are brilliant—could have benefited from a sound more in line with the unmediated electricity of Sly and the Family Stone albums.
“I just don’t like those tidy, neat, sort of clean things,” Robinson says. “There’s a humanity involved in all of it. There’s a humanity in music, in the sound of the music, and in the composition of the music. And by ‘humanity,’ I mean there are flaws, or perceived flaws, that actually turn out to be the magic. You want to try to get it as good as possible. But you also want to leave that space for a breath, or for anything that shows the human organism that’s growing and breathing and behaving.”
“Every time I learn something new, I think about how I can do that in writing a song, first. But then it also expands how you see the guitar.”
Every guitar, amp, and pickup influences the tone Robinson arrives at, and on Happiness Bastards, he employs many different combinations to get where he’s going. For the punchy and jagged “Cross Your Fingers,” he’s on his 1962 Gibson ES-335 and a Muswell amp; the wiry “Dirty Cold Sun” features a Muswell again, powering a custom shop Tele; a dense Gretsch White Falcon through a ’56 Fender Tweed Deluxe fills out “Flesh Wound”; and “Follow the Moon” showcases his 1956 Gibson Les Paul Special through the same amp.
Rich Robinson, seen here playing his Zemaitis Disc Front back in 2021, owns more guitars than your average collector.
Photo by Frank White
In his search for great tone, Robinson founded Muswell Amplification after building one of his own amps—based on his 1968 Marshall bluesbreaker—with his guitar tech, Roland McKay.
“It’s basically an exact, or almost exact, duplicate of my bluesbreaker,” Robinson says. “It’s a 1968 bluesbreaker I bought that, when I heard it, I was like, ‘Holy shit.’ When you buy one amp that is amazing, you kind of want another one just in case. So I was like, ‘Man, can we do this?’ The guy that I’m building the amps with was like, ‘Yeah, I can get all these transistors, I can get these tubes, I can get everything exact and do this.’ And so we did it. And side by side, it’s incredibly close and sounds amazing.”
Mostly, on Happiness Bastards, Robinson flips between his faithful Muswell and the Tweed Deluxe, pulling the textures of the past and contextualizing them here and now for 21st-century rock ’n’ roll. But perhaps one of the more essential elements of the Crowes’ recording process is making room for the human quirks and dynamics that are more akin to the previous century; Robinson laments the uncanny valley feeling that poorly done autotune affects in him, or the stilted nature of songs played to a click.
“You want to leave space for a breath, or for anything that shows the human organism that’s growing and breathing and behaving.”
“It seems weird to me, because, it’s a natural human response—if a chorus is coming, you’re getting a little excited, you speed up a little bit,” Robinson says about the experience of playing live and loose. “And then after that, you kind of slow it back down. That adds to the dynamic of the song and to the humanity of the song.”
Brothers Chris and Rich Robinson formed the Black Crowes in 1984, while still attending high school.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/tinnitus photography
The building blocks of the Black Crowes’ sound, then, are kindred to those that have helped create any of the great Southern rock bands—a melting pot of diverse influences, close attention to tone and timbre, a motivation that comes from love of the game, and brotherhood. It all seems to make a joyful sound, and could hardly be recreated by putting together all the right technology. Ultimately, the formula can only remain a mystery. “There’s always more to it than something as simple as what an amp might sound like or what a mic or effect might do,” Robinson says.
What makes a compelling guitar player is similarly enigmatic; again, of course, there’s no recipe for a Jimi Hendrix or a Duane Allman. But Robinson says his favorites, the players who he looked to when he was learning—Jimmy Page and Peter Green, for example—all have a few things in common with the other greats: freedom, abandon, and passion.
“I think they’re just unapologetically themselves," Robinson says about what sets the singularly voiced apart from the masses. “They’re not trying to be safe. They’re just doing what they do. They’re artists, you know?”
YouTube It
The Black Crowes rip through the fan favorite “Twice As Hard” during their 2021–’22 Shake Your Money Maker tour.
