How Indigenous’ Mato Nanji gets roaring Hendrix-inspired tones from his Fender 75s.
from his own heart or from that of the Nakota Nation, to which he belongs.
“I learned a lot about guitars, amps, and pedals from my dad," Nanji explains by phone from his home on the Yankton Sioux Reservation in South Dakota, where he grew up and still lives—at least when he's not touring the world with Indigenous or as an essential performer on the Experience Hendrix Tours. His father, Greg Zephier Sr., was also an accomplished guitarist and a member of the band the Vanishing Americans, who opened for Bonnie Raitt and other notables.
“My dad would bring home new gear and new music all the time, and once he brought home a Fender 75 and said, 'Hey, check this out,' and I was hooked," Nanji says of his favorite-model amp. “It sounded different from the other Fenders we had: a little darker, a little warmer, a little fatter, and bigger."
Currently Nanji owns two 75s: a 1x15 combo and a head, which he uses to power a Fender 4x12. “I had a 1x12 combo first, but I got the 15 because it has a little more kick with a bigger low," he relates. “Sometimes I use both of my 75s in the studio along with my Super Reverb, with its four 10s. The combination of all three is really awesome."
The 75 series has more functions than typical early '80s Fenders and were among the last designs for the company by famed engineer Ed Jahns, who spearheaded Fullerton amp building before Paul Rivera took the reins in 1982. Both men had a similar bent for innovation, and their designs are sometimes confused for one another's.
Jahns designed the first Fender amps with push/pull tone controls and was also behind the legendary 435-watt Fender 400 PS. The 75 was made from 1980 to 1982 and can scale down to 15 watts with the flip of a toggle. The faceplate controls, from left to right, are a bright switch, a volume dial for the clean channel, treble, mid, and bass EQs—all with pull-out boost, a lead drive dial, reverb, a lead level, and a master volume. The tube array is three 12AX7s, two 12AT7s, and two 6L6 power tubes, but the rectifier is solid-state. The combos came with 8-ohm Electro-Voice or Fender Blue Label speakers made by Eminence. These amps aren't as collectible as many vintage Fenders, despite their sonic virtues, and can be found for $500 to $1,300, depending on condition.
Nanji likes to use only the lead side of his 75s and sets the dials on 5—all the way across. “Right in the middle is where the sweet sound is," he notes. “I like to keep the core tone clean as much as I can, and then use a few pedals to overdrive it." Although a TS808 is his longtime go-to, he also favors a Mojo Hand Tone Factor and a vintage Fuzz Face for snarl options, and a Prescription Electronics COB (Clean Octave Blend) fuzz for more radical colors.
To hear Nanji's potent tone in full, listen to “C'mon Suzie" from 2003's Indigenous. In addition to his 75s, that track features the rotating sound of a Leslie cabinet—like Hendrix used on “Little Wing." (Onstage, Nanji gets that swirl from a Tinsley Audio Sir Henry pedal.) The guitar on that song is the one that's always over his shoulders: a '60s reissue Stratocaster, which recently got a Custom Shop neck that was a gift from Nanji's Hendrix tour compatriot, Kenny Wayne Shepherd.
The fat, gorgeous guitar tones on Indigenous' “C'mon Suzie" are among Mato Nanji's favorite sounds that he's recorded.
That first time I heard Nanji live, he was using his 75 head on two 4x12 Fender cabs, but in recent years he's relegated his 40-year-old amps to the studio. On the Hendrix tours, he powers up the Marshall JCM800 that's provided. “Everybody says it's really loud, so they block it off with Plexiglass, but I can't tell when I'm onstage and feeling it," he says, chuckling. Just before touring stopped, he'd been using a Legacy Steve Vai signature head—a gift from Carvin—with Indigenous, for its reliability and the Marshall-like tone of its EL34 power tubes.
But he's lost no fondness for his 75s. “I'm in and out of the studio working on songs as much as I can, although the studio where I work is shut down a lot, and there aren't many alternatives in South Dakota," he relates. “But I'm pretty close to finishing an album that I'd like to get out next year."
Does artificially breaking in a guitar by “exciting” it really work—at least in the manner we hope it will? And what does that have to do with cheese?
As musicians, we all know the effects of music reach far beyond just fun and entertainment, whether it's helping with depression, influencing our basic mood, bringing people together, or one of myriad other reasons.
But then there are those surprising finds. Swiss cheesemaker Beat Wampfler partnered with a research team from the Bern University of the Arts in Switzerland to improve the taste of his Emmentaler cheese. There are a lot of factors, like humidity, temperature, and nutrients during gestation, involved in the cheese's final taste and aroma.
However, the primary objective of this project was to determine whether one could taste what those wheels of cheese had been listening to during their six months of gestation. The choice of music for each wheel of cheese ranged from The Magic Flute by Mozart to Led Zeppelin's “Stairway to Heaven" on a 24/7 loop. The team also incorporated some hip-hop by A Tribe Called Quest and EDM from Vril, among other varying genres. And, of course, there was also an untreated control group.
After the aging of the music-infused cheese, the team conducted a blindfolded taste test in a standardized experimental design, performed by several specially trained food-sensory researchers. The final outcome? The experts determined the hip-hop-laced cheese came out on top, with the strongest aroma and taste. Meanwhile, the arts team learned more about the scientific field of sonochemistry, which looks at the impact of sound on chemical reactions in solid bodies and plants.
The first experiments exposing plants to music started in 1962, and the many that followed found that classical music could enhance both the growth and yield of plants. In 2004, the rather anarchistic TV show MythBusters set up a similar experiment by exposing plants to several music styles, as well as positive and negative talk. The plants apparently didn't care whether you talked nicely to them or not, just as long as you did so. In the end, heavy metal music was the victor, with the most growth.
As entertaining as these “studies" are, I hope they don't lead anyone to seriously believe any cheese or plant has any sort of musical preferences. The topic, however, shows a few similarities to musicians who believe their instruments have to be “played in" for optimal tone, or that vintage instruments are superior simply because they've been played for so many decades.
With that belief, there is, of course, a market for devices to speed up the process of breaking in basses and guitars, mainly by attaching speakers to the instrument close to the bridge. It's interesting that when devotees of the process/technology argue its merits and how it all works, they often refer to the influence of sound on plants. First and foremost, there is a huge difference between a system of living cells and a guitar's wooden body. One consists of cells transporting all kinds of fluids and nourishments—it is well known that vibration can significantly stimulate division and cell-membrane fluidity—while the other one is a dead tree, plain and simple.
One company's process suggests using white and pink noise to specifically trim it to your preferred personal sound. Pink noise covers all audible frequencies with higher amplitudes in the bass register than the equally weighed white noise. So, if you want more bass from the instrument, simply extend the exposure time to pink noise, right? But they also say the process can be even more specific if you play the music genre to the instrument you plan to ultimately use it for, and to “make it loud, but never let the signal distort." Following this logic, wouldn't that mean bad news if you plan on playing death metal? And is my instrument ruined if my band members prank me by secretly playing Wham's “Last Christmas" to my bass on a loop?
The theory behind the process is that feeding external vibrations within the resonance range reduces internal tensions, and that the applied energy remains in the material and raises even more over time. This is partially true, as all the applied vibrational energy is heating up the body, but it also implies that you can store this energy to let it drain out via the output jack once you plug in.
To me, the whole played-in idea is simply a psychological effect, where every minute spent with your instrument deepens your relationship with it. It's similar to how hugging a tree feels like reconnecting to nature for some, while the tree couldn't care less. It's not that applying vibrations to wood can't have influences on its mechanical properties. But if so, it's way more likely to be a treatment to soften the tops of acoustic instruments, which might allow for stronger movements and a more dynamic reaction to the strings. With electric solidbody basses and guitars? Not so much. That said, if you can spend the cash, feeling better might be enough of a reason to give it a try!
With its aged spruce top, distinctive pickguard, "Gumby" headstock, and Vistatone pickups, this Coronado has character—and voice—in spades.
This original archtop Coronado’s Vistatone pickups speak the language of Ry Cooder and other tone hounds.
Many of my favorite tales from instrument manufacturing history are connected to the Dopyera brothers. So many brands are linked to their family name that it's almost unimaginable. And that includes Supro, a classic brand that has experienced a modern renaissance.
Recently, this 1961 Supro Coronado electric guitar came through the doors at our shop. I mention that it's a guitar, because Supro also used the Coronado name for an amplifier—and, in fact, still does. But the Coronado electric 6-string was a staple of the company's catalog for years, and went through a variety of permutations, including the archtop design of this month's guitar and, by 1963, a Res-O-Glass version. There's even a current model inspired by the latter, called the Coronado II, that sports what the new Supro calls an “Acoustic-glass" top.
This class of '61 Coronado is a very cool guitar. But before I get too nuts-and-bolts deep, let's revisit the Dopyeras. By 1933, the family had lost and regained one of their most famous companies: the National String Instrument Corporation. And once they got National back, they merged it with Dobro, which brother John Dopyera had co-founded with two partners from outside the family in 1929. After the merger, the brothers moved the bulk of their operations from southern California to Chicago, where Louis Dopyera also relocated to head up operations.
By 1936, Louis noted the trend toward electric, amplified instruments and wanted to diversify to meet that growing demand. He partnered with Victor Smith and Al Frost to create Valco—an acronym for Victor, Al, and Louis. Valco quickly began producing instruments, amps, and accessories for a variety of other brands, including Harmony, Regal, and Montgomery Ward's Airline, but their own core brand was Supro.
Supro labeled this model's 3-way pickup selector as the “tone switch," but tone is actually controlled by the two bottom speed dials. While the pickguard once bore the Coronado name, the Vistatone pickups are arguably the guitar's crowning feature.
I'm a huge fan of all Valco products, but Supro guitars are my favorite! So, let's get back to that '61 Coronado, which also happens to probably be my very favorite Supro 6-string. In 1960 and '61, the Coronado sported an arched spruce top, two volume dials, two tone knobs, and a 3-way switch labeled “tone switch" that was, obviously, a pickup selector. Our guitar has all of that, and two original Vistatone pickups, which look like humbuckers but are actually single-coils dressed in a humbucker-size cover. These were developed and patented in 1952 for Valco by Ralph Keller, to provide a big, fat sound not unlike Gibson's P-90s, which debuted in 1946. Vistatones are one of the things I really like about the old Supros I own. They provide a big, raw tone that's a slide player's dream. The lap-steel version of these pickups was made famous by Ry Cooder, whose modded “Coodercaster" guitars feature them in the bridge slot.
This month's Coronado has a few nicks here and there, but overall is in great shape. The model name has worn off the pickguard and the original tone knobs have been replaced, but Valco's OEM butterfly keys and the smaller “Gumby"-style headstock with a D-shaped neck gives the guitar a nice, slinky look.
This headstock is classic vintage Supro: the “Gumby" shape with white trim, the lightning bolt logo, and butterfly tuners.
Sadly, like a lot of instrument companies in the late '60s (check out my narrative on Grammer's union with Ampeg in the September issue's Vintage Vault), a merger spelled the end of Valco. After Valco joined the Kay Musical Instrument Company in 1967, financial stress busted both companies. Here's an interesting sidebar: Famed Nashville musician Tut Taylor—who, along with his son Mark, was a builder of resonator guitars, banjos, and mandolins—bought a lot of Valco's machinery and materials at auction and moved into the old Grammer guitar factory in Music City to create Tut Taylor Music, which produced the Tennessee brand of instruments and would become Rich and Taylor in the '90s.
At about $1,300, this 1961 Coronado is a great, cool-sounding, and affordable vintage American electric. Over the decades, Jimmy Page, Jimi Hendrix, Dan Auerbach, Jimmy Reed, Howlin' Wolf, J.B. Hutto, and many other notable players have wrapped their hands around Supro models like this one. If you haven't tried this historic guitar or one of its siblings, you've got a treat just waiting for you.