On his new album, the blues-guitar badass steps away from the crackling electric performances that have won him an international reputation for a bristling trip through acoustic-roots music.
Acoustic blues is a form of interdimensional travel. And on his new album, Naked Truth, Tinsley Ellis displays his mastery of being everywhere, all at once. I’d say that he has one foot in the red clay of the Delta and the dust of Africa, where the music arose from; another in the present, because breathing life into this style requires committed intention; and another in the future, where his own songs and selection of covers urge the genre. But that would be a weird choice of metaphor, because, like most of us, he only has two feet.
Besides, Naked Truth is more a matter of the head, brain, voice, and heart. Playing a 1937 National resonator and a 1969 Martin D-35, and stomping his foot for rhythmic emphasis, Ellis travels a well-plotted course through the music’s dimensions. The past eloquently echoes in his roughhouse performance of Delta-blues grandfather Son House’s parable, “Death Letter Blues,” one of the greatest stories of love and loss ever told, and his own “Windowpane,” which borrows the haunted, high-singing, minor-key template of Skip James. Ellis’ rowdy “Devil in the Room” gets its title from a line by his late friend, the musical eccentric Col. Bruce Hampton—who always instructed his bands to “put the Devil in the room.” And Ellis’ “Tallahassee Blues” and “Grown Ass Man” look at heartbreak from positions of sadness and strength, respectively. It’s the instrumentals, often, that lean hardest into the future, as Ellis’ fingerpicking and open tunings step away from blues tradition with a balance of pedal tones and melody that sync more easily with the American primitive movement and acoustic, textural music. That’s familiar territory for fans of Will Ackerman and trailblazer Leo Kottke, whose “The Sailor’s Grave on the Prairie” offers a gently assertive display of Ellis’ slide and fingerpicking prowess on Naked Truth.
“I didn’t want to sit down and practice. That’s just … oh God! But writing songs is another thing.”
“Playing acoustic solo blues is a totally personal statement,” Ellis observes. “Historically, we’re talking about musicians who could do the whole thing on their own. Men like R.L. Burnside had players who accompanied them, but they weren’t needed. They could make a roomful of people dance or smile by themselves.”
It’s only recently that Ellis has come to his acoustic solo reckoning, but his singing and playing have always sounded personal. For most of his 49 years onstage, he’s been a bandleader, earning a reputation as a skilled electric bluesman. The Atlanta-based guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter’s 22 previous studio recordings have reflected steady artistic growth—from his tenure in the Heartfixers, which he formed after college, and through a chain of albums bearing his name. Storm Warning, in 1994, was a hallmark, packed with originals, blues classics, and even Joe Zawinul’s punchy soul instrumental “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.” That album’s “A Quitter Never Wins” was, at the time, the best summary of his electric vocabulary: a six-minute exhibition of rich, powerful singing with a touch of grit in his soulful vocal phrasing; a guitar tone that free-ranges from sweet and pure to scooped, attenuated-wah mids to hairy raw-edged soloing; and dynamics from mouse to lion. Ellis broadened his propensity for risk with 2013’s Get It!, an all-instrumental, retro-guitar freakout with eight original compositions that ricocheted from his early surf- and garage-rock influences to the mighty, Jeff Beck-like “Anthem for a Fallen Hero.” More recently, his trilogy of Winning Hand, Devil May Care, and Ice Cream in Hell helped jolt him to the Olympus of modern blues rock. Joe Bonamassa, a fellow Olympian, has described Ellis as “a national treasure.”
“I did it myself in my studio—just miked my foot and put a mic on the guitar and vocals and did take after take until I had what I wanted.”
Ellis recorded his first acoustic album in his home studio, save for a track cut at his Atlanta neighbor Eddie 9V’s recording room.
Ellis spent 10 years dedicatedly working his way to becoming a musician who could “do the whole thing on his own”—which requires not only exceptional playing but great storytelling to keep an audience engaged. Onstage, his between-song tales of blues history and encounters with its characters, the fizzled romances or epic friendships that became a source of lyrics, and his wonder at the discoveries he’s had during his musical life bring his audiences closer, creating a palpable bond.
“I think it has a slight tear in the cone, so it makes a slight rattle.”
“Naked Truth is an album I’ve wanted to make since I started posting acoustic videos on social media—my Sunday Morning Coffee Songs—in 2013,” says Ellis, referring to his regular series of Facebook performances. During the pandemic, when his steady diet of gigs ended, “I was off the road for almost two years. I didn’t want to lose my chops, so I started designating every morning.... Well, I didn’t want to sit down and practice. That’s just … oh God! But writing songs is another thing. I designated Sunday mornings for posting songs and watching my news shows. The other six days, I wrote songs and dragged them into different folders on my computer. One folder was called ‘Acoustic,’ and it became apparent that I had a cool, quirky mixture of blues and folk songs in there. I approached Bruce [Iglauer, head of Alligator Records] about the concept of an acoustic album, and he was open to it.”
Tinsley Ellis' Gear
Ellis is currently on a cross-country solo concert tour—one musician, two guitars, and a car.
Photo by Joseph A. Rosen
Acoustic Guitars
- 1937 National O Series resonator
- 1968 Martin D-35
Recording Microphones
- Shure SM57, Neumann TLM 103
Strings, Slide, & Picks
- Ernie Ball Earthwood (.012–.054, for the Martin)
- Ernie Ball Not Even Slinky (.012–.056, for the National, with an unwound G at the advice of Warren Haynes)
- Brass slide
- Medium-gauge picks (typically for standard tuning)
So, the next step was recording in earnest. “I did it myself in my studio—just miked my foot and put a mic on the guitar and vocals and did take after take until I had what I wanted. One song on the album, ‘Death Letter Blues,’ was from a demo I did at Eddie 9V’s studio here in Atlanta. I just couldn’t get a version that sounded as good as that demo.” Ellis depended on two microphones to achieve the rich, slightly dark guitar tones on Naked Truth: a Neumann TLM 103 and a Shure SM57. (The recordings were mixed and mastered by Atlanta-based producer Tony Terrebonne.) The rest was in his touch, which is determined, tough, and precise—exactly the way he saw Muddy Waters and other blues legends bear down on their guitars as he was coming up in the music. The various tunings on the album—standard, drop D, open G, open Dm, and DADGAD—also add variety to its sound. And then there’s his National, which has been appealingly raucous since he bought it years ago at Willies American Guitars in St. Paul, Minnesota, while on tour.
“I sat at the feet of Howlin’ Wolf and Muddy Waters a bunch of times.”
“I think it has a slight tear in the cone, so it makes a slight rattle,” Ellis explains. “The salesperson there said, ‘Now, you’re going to want to replace it,’ and I did, but it didn't sound right. It was too precise, too bluegrass, too Jerry Douglas. So, I put it back in there. I like it, and nobody’s ever complained about it.” Consider it the organic equivalent of a low-gain distortion pedal.
As a child of the ’60s and early ’70s, Ellis grew up on the original wave of garage rock, when bands like the Standells and Nightcrawlers were setting teenage angst to three nasty chords, and more expert pickers, like Johnny Rivers and Lonnie Mack, were clearing the path for the arrival of the first generation of classic rock-guitar heroes. Thanks to an older brother, blues also seeped into his listening. That led to a pivotal experience at the Swinger’s Lounge in the Marco Polo hotel in North Miami Beach, Florida, not far from where the Ellis family lived.
Backstage, all 87 years of its life are reflected in the finish of Ellis’ National resonator.
Photo by Jim Summaria
“B.B. King and his band were playing there for a week, and whoever played there had to do a teen matinee,” Ellis recalls. “My dad loaded up the station wagon and took me and my friends to see this guy, who was supposed to be ‘the Man.’ My brother had come into my room when I was listening to Mike Bloomfield, on the Al Kooper Super Session album, and said, ‘If you like this guy, you’ve got to hear B.B. King.’ So, there we were. I sat right in the front. It just blew my mind! I could see where the real blues was coming from—where Duane Allman, Eric Clapton, Mike Bloomfield, and Johnny Winter were getting it. And then, after the show, he greeted us in the lobby and talked to us for what seemed like hours. It was probably really 45 minutes or something. He was the nicest man. And that was it for me. After that, I was always in the front row. I sat at the feet of Howlin’ Wolf and Muddy Waters a bunch of times.”
Ellis has performed with and observed a coterie of his blues influences since the late 1960s. Here, he poses backstage with the high-octane “Master of the Telecaster,” Albert Collins, in 1980.
Photo by Lisa Seifert/Courtesy of Tinsley Ellis
The die thus cast, Ellis played through junior high, high school, and college, and got hired by an Atlanta-based touring blues band called the Alley Cats after he graduated. Later, he put together the Heartfixers, who became one of the Big Peach’s favorite musical sons, and cut their first album with folklorist and musicologist George Mitchell as producer. Their 1982 debut was made in one night, for $105. And from there, Ellis made his way into the international blues scene. Over the decades of constant touring, Ellis landed at the Alligator label, then to Capricorn Records, then to Telarc, and back to Alligator. (“I got passed around like a joint,” he observes, laughing.) He also released music independently, on his Heartfixer label, and made his return to Alligator again in 2018, with his electric blues style now fully grown. Songs like that album’s “Kiss This World,” where Ellis echoes the furious expressionism of Buddy Guy, and the epic “Saving Grace,” which recalls both Jimi Hendrix and Robin Trower in its roaring, swirling, Uni-Vibe vibe, mark him as a player for the ages.
Which brings us back to his navigation of the omniverse of acoustic blues. “One thing I’ve noticed about these shows, as opposed to my electric shows of more than 45 years, is that people are smiling. With my electric show, there was so much snarling and stuff onstage that the audience was also making serious faces. I didn’t see a lot of smiles. So, I think really what I need to do is get to where I’m playing some music that’s going to put more smiles on people’s faces, because with what’s going on in the world, people really need to lighten up. Maybe I can be somebody that will help them do that, and maybe this album is doing that—for them and for me.”
YouTube It
Tinsley Ellis and his slightly rattling National resonator faithfully conjure the fire-and-brimstone spirit of the Delta-blues great Son House in a performance of the latter’s “Death Letter Blues,” from Ellis’ new album Naked Truth.
A blues-rock guitar hero and American music treasure shows us some of the gemstones in his 6-string strongbox, shares an amp with some history, and displays the onboard filter and select stomps he uses to goose his rich tone.
Tinsley Ellis broke onto the national blues scene with his early ’80s band, the Heartfixers. By late in the decade, when the Atlanta-based guitarist and singer began releasing albums under his own name, he also became a fixture in the genre’s international club and festival circuit. Over the years he's earned a reputation for full-throttle live shows and well-crafted albums that hinge on his powerful singing and on his playing, which is based in tradition but packed with signature moves like deft finger slides, the use of open, ringing strings in single-note solos, and bends borrowed from B.B. King but laden with his own emotionalism and rock 'n' roll energy.
Ellis has been a seemingly tireless road warrior—at least until Covid. But even the pandemic couldn't slow his songwriting, and he penned more than 200 new titles while in lockdown. You can hear 10 of those tunes, including 6-string bonfires like “Slow Train To Hell,” on his new album Devil May Care—the 20th in his catalog. Back on the road this year, Ellis stopped at Nashville’s 3rd & Lindsley on March 3, where he showed Premier Guitar his rig and told stories of close encounters with B.B. King and other greats after soundcheck and, that night, delivered a sermon on the power and glory of blues. His current run continues until the end of May, and Ellis has just been nominated in the 2022 Blues Music Awards for Blue-Rock Entertainer of the Year.
Brought to you byD’Addario XPND Pedalboard.
Meet the Fleet
Tinsley Ellis favors classic tone flavors, and he gets them through classic guitars. At the 3rd & Lindsley gig, he relied on his 1959 Fender Stratocaster, his mid-’60s Gibson ES-345, a 1930s National resonator, and an ’80s Gibson Moderne. He also travels with a Les Paul and another Strat when the mood or need arises.
A Fine ’59
Here's a close-up of that 1959 Strat. It's been one of his companions for decades. When asked if he’s concerned about traveling with such a superb vintage instrument, he replies: “I own ’em to play ’em.” And indeed he does, eliciting a wide variety of classic single-coil tones from its barking pickups as he dances over its rosewood neck. One snag: the middle single-coil is a replacement, because the original was swiped years ago when he brought the guitar in for a repair. Ouch!
Tinsley's No. 1
Dig that Varitone switch—which means this 1967 Gibson is an ES-345. It's Ellis' main axe and sounds killer through his double Fender amp setup and under his hands. “I bought this guitar in the ’70s, because I wanted to sound like B.B. King,“ he says. He loves the way the Varitone works as a filter, giving him that B.B. King Live at the Regal tone on demand, and even taking him into Peter Green turf. You can see every road mile on the ES’s beautifully weathered face. This guitar and the Strat are featured throughout the Devil May Care album, along with a Les Paul and several other carefully curated axes.
A Unmodded Moderne
Although Gibson designed the Moderne in 1957, along with the Flying V and Explorer, it was not produced—save for a few prototypes—until 1982. Even then, few were made over just two years, although the guitar returned to Gibson's catalog in 2012. Ellis keeps his stock Moderne tuned in open D, primarily, for playing slide, and the guitar seems to have an affinity for Elmore James’ material.
Where's Pokey?
Note the Moderne's very un-Gibson-like “Gumby” headstock!
Take a Shine to This!
This is a 1932 National resonator, with its chrome body decorated by an oasis motif on the front and back. Ellis keeps this little doggie, a recent acquisition, mostly tuned in open G, and when he plays Muddy Waters' “Can't Be Satisfied,” laying his bronze slide on its strings, it's impossible to not be carried back to the days this guitar—and the blues genre—were young.
Silver Beaches
Here's the backside of Ellis' National.
A Super Super Reverb and Its Deluxe Sidekick
Ellis is a die-hard Fender amp fan and runs his vintage Super Reverb and reissue Deluxe in parallel to achiever his widescreen tone. This Super Reverb is a little more super than meets the eye. Ellis purchased the 40-watt wonder from Thom Doucette, who played harmonica with the Allman Brothers on the classic 1971 album At Fillmore East. Doucette owned two Supers, he and told Ellis he either played this one or its sibling—he no longer remembered exactly which he'd used—on the nights the album was recorded. Oh, and one more thing: This amp was also used by Stevie Ray Vaughan whenever he sat in with Ellis, who told us he hasn't changed the settings—volume at 6, treble just past 8, mid at 6, bass at 3, and reverb just past 2—since the first time SRV plugged into it. “When I heard Stevie play though that amp, I thought, ‘Aha, that's how it's supposed to be set!'”
Basic Burners
Ellis keeps his pedalboard simple. There’s a Boss TU-2 chromatic tuner and a BBE Soul Vibe rotary speaker emulator—way easier to carry than the Leslie heard on Devil May Care—followed by a Nobles ODR-1 Natural Overdrive and a Real McCoy Custom Wah.
The blues guitar hero shares a track from his upcoming album—and the Tao of the wah-wah according to Tom Dowd.
Veteran singer-guitarist Tinsley Ellis describes his new album, Winning Hand, as a return to his roots in “guitar-driven blues-rock—wah-wah pedal and all.” The track premiering here, “Sound of a Broken Man,” zeroes right in, with its scalding tone, howling bends, and a banshee wah-wah solo that’s built over a modulation and brings the tune to an incendiary finale.
The singer-guitarist’s new album Winning Hand marks his return to the Alligator Records blues label. His first Alligator release was 1988’s Georgia Blue. Photo by Flournoy Holmes
Throughout his career, Ellis has pursued tone and melody with Zen-like focus. “I’m not a fast or flashy player,” he says. “The people I hope to sound like are B.B. King, on the blues side, and Billy Gibbons, on the rock side—somewhere right in between there,” he relates. And throughout Winning Hand’s 10 songs, he’s in the zone.
The Atlanta native began his 6-string journey in his teens and formed the popular regional band the Heartfixers in 1981. Next year marks his 30th anniversary touring and recording under his own name. Along the way, Ellis has cut 19 albums and built a reputation as a respected musician and songwriter who mixes soul and fire onstage and in the studio.
Like all his albums for the past decade, Winning Hand—set for January 12 release—began in Ellis’ home studio in Atlanta and was completed at keyboardist-producer Kevin McKendree’s studio, the Rock House, in Franklin, Tennessee. And like all the tracks on the album, “Sound of a Broken Man” employs Ellis’ trusty ’65 Fender Deluxe Reverb reissue—his current studio favorite for its blend of pure sound and versatility. Testifying over the top of the tune’s driving boogaloo beat is Ellis’ 1972 Gibson Les Paul Deluxe, which he bought new that year. And the wah-wah doing the moaning and wailing is a Real McCoy Custom made by Geoffrey Teese in Coquille, Oregon.
“I bought my first wah-wah, a Cry Baby, in 1971 and I’m hooked on that sound,” says Ellis. “I’m a huge Cream fan, and to my thinking Clapton is the greatest purveyor or the wah-wah, so that’s what I’m always going for.”
Tinsley Ellis’ main guitars: 1982 Gibson Moderne tuned in open D for slide, 1967 Gibson ES-345, 1972 Gibson Les Paul Deluxe, 1959 Fender Stratocaster, and 1984 Fender Stratocaster tuned a step down. A 1967 Fender Super Reverb brings up the rear. Photo by Flournoy Holmes
But Ellis may have gotten his best lesson on playing the pedal from the great producer Tom Dowd, whose resume reads like a who’s who in classic jazz and rock, from Charlie Parker and John Coltrane to Eric Clapton and the Eagles. Ellis was cutting a wah-wah solo with Dowd at the board for his 1997 album Fire It Up, when Dowd stopped the tape. “He said, ‘You’re moving your foot too much,’” Ellis recounts. “‘It’s a tone filter. It’s not a foot pump. You want to milk the notes.’ And he was right, of course. You want to milk the thing for all the different shades of the notes, and get to a place where moving the pedal a slight way can give you a certain overtone or find the place where the note’s going to sustain. If you move it really fast, you’re gonna blow right past it.”
Tinsley Ellis riffs on his 2000 Gibson Les Paul Standard—digging out a rich tone similar to the ’72 Paul that appears on “Sound of a Broken Man”—as he delivers his song “The Other Side,” from his 2009 album Speak No Evil, at the Shed in Maryville, Tennessee, in 2010.