Chops: Intermediate Theory: Intermediate Lesson Overview: • Learn how to construct Dorian scales. • Understand the minor-key harmony of “Last Dance with Mary Jane.” • Develop an ability to hear the raised 6 in a minor scale. Click here to download a printable PDF of this lesson's notation.
I love modes. I love playing them. I love teaching them. But they are tricky to teach because it’s difficult to wrap your head around them without having to dive deep into theory, which isn’t an easy step for some players. As a teacher, I look for ways to make modes fun and relatable, and this always lives and dies by the quality of your examples and source materials. Over this past holiday break, I started researching the mighty 5-watt Fender Champ tube amp. What does this have to do with modes? Read on.
Tom Petty’s guitarist Mike Campbell is a well-known fan of low-wattage Fender amps. I was watching a segment on the history of the Champ and when the main riff to “Last Dance with Mary Jane” came up, it piqued my interest. It was a song I knew well, hadn’t really heard in a long time, and never had a reason to study—until now.
There was something about the song that was unique and I wanted to dig into. And because I needed inspiration for a new lesson, the timing was perfect. The first thing I like to do when figuring out how a tune works is to lay out the main chords as an inventory. For this tune, the chords are pretty simple:
Am–G–D–Am
Yet again, Tom Petty takes a simple harmony and crafts an enduring rock anthem around it. We all joke about three-chord rock, but this is not only three-chord rock, it’s modal as well. So, why is this a Dorian chord progression? Just looking at the chords might be enough if you’d studied harmony a ton, but if you haven’t, the next step we should take is to spell out the chords into their individual notes:
Am = A C E
G = G B D
D = D F# A
Now that we’ve deconstructed the chords, the next task is to decide which note you think is home, or in theory-speak, the I. In this case, it’s pretty clear that A is home. We keep coming back to it, and it really does feel and sound right. With that done, we can take the chord tones and alphabetize them, starting with A. This yields a string of seven notes: A–B–C–D–E–F#–G.
Okay, we’ve taken inventory of all the notes contained in those three chords, starting from our root (A). The next step is to ponder the harmonic consequences of this discovery. What makes this a Dorian progression is the D major chord with an Am tonic. This D triad brings us an F#, which is not the normal F you’d see in an A Aeolian, aka A natural minor, scale (A–B–C–D–E–F–G). With Dorian, you end up with a scale that sounds minor, but with a raised 6, compared to natural minor. This yields an intriguing sound that’s not quite as dark as the minor scale you’re accustomed to. Many people describe and teach Dorian as a minor scale with a raised 6, and that’s exactly what we have here.
To get familiar with this sound, grab “Last Dance with Mary Jane” on your favorite music service and play along in A Dorian. Ex. 1 shows a handy scale diagram based on the 5th fret root of A on the 6th and 1st strings.
Now that we’ve connected the chords to the Dorian mode and we have a scale fingering, let’s hear some riffs in context.
For Ex. 2, I’m keying off the fact that this Dorian scale position is in the same spot as the familiar minor pentatonic scale, so we’re getting to use both the mode and the pentatonic in the same phrase. I’m featuring the F# (or the 6) as the signature note that makes Dorian unique, and also because it’s the 3 of the D major chord. You can play that F# whenever you want in this progression, but it’s extra awesome over the D chord.
With its bluesy beginning, Ex. 3 is another line that relies on the pentatonic scale lurking inside of the Dorian scale. Again, when the D major chord occurs in the second measure, I’m calling attention to it with the F#. It’s a simple way to connect with the Dorian scale and still keep that rock/blues feel we all love.
For our final example (Ex. 4), I stayed away from the pentatonic sound and tried to create a simpler melody with just the Dorian scale. It starts in the middle of the guitar’s range and follows a see-saw pattern of “go up a few, go down a few.” At the start of each chord change—every two beats—I align to the chord in the progression: A for the Am chord, G for the G chord, and F# for the D chord. This is a little bit of voice-leading that reminds me of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.” It not only helps you anchor the chord progression, but it connects with the mode at the same time. We’re only using a portion of Ex. 1’s two-octave scale pattern—sometimes simple is best.
But wait there’s more! While the opening chords clearly spell out an A Dorian progression, the chorus shifts to yet another modal key. This song keeps on giving us things to learn and practice—how cool. When the chorus starts, we hear the following chords:
Em–A–Em–A–G
As before, let’s pull the chords apart to see what’s inside:
Em = E G B
A = A C# E
G = G B D
And just like last time, we need to determine the root. In this case, it’s clearly E minor, so we’ll call this an E something mode. Starting with E, let’s ascend through the pitches to see what we get:
E–G–A–B–C#–D
This gives us six notes. While we’re missing the second note after E (which, in a seven-note scale, would be some type of F), we can still conclude it’s another Dorian scale, this time in the key of E. Relative to E, C# is a raised 6 and this matches our general idea of Dorian construction: minor scales with a raised 6. It’s really cool that this song allows you to practice in two keys, A Dorian for the verse and E Dorian (E–F#–G–A–B–C#–D) for the chorus.
Ex. 5 is a scale diagram for E Dorian. Note that it’s the same pattern as our previous A Dorian scale, just shifted up to the 12 fret to place the E root on the 6th and 1st strings.
The chorus is my favorite part of the song because it’s a moment where everything comes together—the chords and Petty’s vocal melody combine for a beautifully haunting Dorian sound. Pay attention to the “ry” in the melody of “Mary” to hear that C# over an Em chord—that’s the distinctive Dorian color at work. It’s one of the reasons I’ll keep this song in my arsenal of material for teaching Dorian to students, along with Pink Floyd’s epic “Breathe” from Dark Side of the Moon. (Go work out the Dorian key for that one.) For now, use the above examples for inspiration and find your own riffs and ideas for “Mary Jane.” Let your creativity and ears be your guide.
I hope you enjoyed exploring how to reverse-engineer a simple song. Over time, this process will become faster and you’ll be able to hear the modes more easily. The next time a tune really tickles your ear, take it apart as we’ve done here. Who knows? It may spawn a soloing concept or a song idea you wouldn’t have otherwise considered.
Are you looking for a flexible amp modeler for the stage, studio, or home? In this in-depth demo, PG contributor Tom Butwin takes you through gigging, practicing, and recording with two compelling options: the touchscreen-powered Hotone Ampero II and the tactile, amp-style Blackstar AMPED 3.
Editorial Director Ted Drozdowski’s current favorite noisemakers.
Premier Guitar’s editors use their favorite fuzz pedals in countless ways. At any point during our waking hours, one of us could be turned on, plugged in, and fuzzed out—chasing a Sabbath riff, tracking menacing drone ambience, fire-branding a solo break with a psychedelic blast, or something else altogether more deranged. As any PGreader knows, there are nearly infinite paths to these destinations and almost as many fuzz boxes to travel with. Germanium, silicon, 2-transistor, 4-transistor, 6-transistor, octave, multimode, modern, and caveman-stupid: Almost all of these fuzz types are represented among our own faves, which are presented here as inspiration, and launch pads for your own rocket rides to the Fuzz-o-sphere.
Ted Drozdowski - Editorial Director
My favorite is my Burns Buzz, a stomp custom-made for me by Gary Kibler of Big Knob Pedals. Gary specializes in recreations of old circuits, and this Burns Buzzaround-inspired box has four germanium NOS transistors and sounds beautifully gnarly. It improves on the original, which Robert Fripp favored in early King Crimson, by adding a volume control. I went a little stir-crazy acquiring fuzzes during Covid lockdown and now have an embarrassing amount. My other current darlings are a SoloDallas Orbiter (which balances fuzz with core-signal clarity), a Joe Gore Duh (a no-nonsense, 1-knob dirt shoveler), and my Big Knob Tone Blender MkII 66, which taught me how smooth and creamy fuzz can be with carefully calibrated settings. These pedals allow me to cover all of my favorite fuzz sounds from the past 60 years. I do have one more secret weapon fuzz that only travels to the studio: an original Maestro FZ-1 that I picked up used for about $20 in the early ’90s. It’s banged up but functional, takes two 9V batteries, and is righteously juicy.
Nick Millevoi - Senior Editor
The two greatest fuzzes I’ve ever played are a Pigdog Tone Bender build and a Paul Trombetta Bone Machine. Both experiences will stick with me for decades to come. But creations by those two masters of fuzz come with a price tag high enough to keep my time with those pedals fleeting.
Instead, my favorite fuzz is an inexpensive, mass-produced pedal that hasn’t left my board since I reviewed and subsequently purchased it in 2021: the Electro-Harmonix Ripped Speaker, designed to emulate the distorted tones on ’50s and ’60s records that were created with broken or misused gear.
Retro inspiration is not all it has to offer though. The rip knob, which controls transistor bias, is the star of the show, interacting with the fuzz level to deliver everything from a smooth, mild fuzz to sputtery mayhem that can evoke a faulty channel strip or old tube combo that’s been set ablaze. I prefer to crank the rip knob and feed it to a phaser and slapback analog delay, which gives me a bit-crushed-like gnarliness. Pull back on the rip or add a boost in front of the pedal, and it has a more organic but still gated sound, which, for me, can be just the thing to set my sound apart in a more traditional setting.
For a cool $116, the Ripped Speaker, which seems to fly under most fuzz freaks’ radars, might be the special something that complements the rest of your board or just a tone you turn to on occasion. Either way, it’s a great deal.
Luke Ottenhof - Assistant Editor
You could give me the most powerful-sounding fuzz in the world, but if it was in a stupid-looking enclosure, I don’t know if I’d give it a second look. This is just how we operate: Vision is the sense we privilege most, even in matters of audio.
Luckily, the most seismic, monstrous fuzz I’ve ever heard also happens to come in a beautiful package. The Mile End Effects Kollaps, built by Justin Cober in Montreal, measures an elephantine 7 3/8" x 4 5/8" x 1 1/2", and its MuTron-meets-’60s-Soviet aesthetic matches the sounds its guts produce. The Kollaps is modeled after the nasty Univox Super-Fuzz circuit, and carries a few of that pedal’s hallmarks, including its use of germanium diodes and midrange boost control. Cober added a switchable Baxandall active EQ circuit, with up to 12 dB of boost and cut to both low and high frequencies. Coupled with the mid-boost toggle, this gives the Kollaps a shockingly broad range of tonality to play with.
With the mids off, the Kollaps is jagged and ruthless, a deafening turbojet of upper mids and chest-vibrating lows that yanks me toward the darker, less commercially successful corners of ’90s doom and noise rock. Kicking on the EQ circuit and boosting the lows turns it titanic. With the balance (volume) and expand (gain) controls maxed, the Kollaps starts to live up to its name, crumbling into a thick, overextended chaos in a way more polite fuzz circuits rarely do.
My favorite Kollaps sounds occur when the mids are engaged, for an articulate, deeply textured fuzz sound that retains your attack. Playing with your guitar’s volume knob, you can coax a range of EQ profiles and take advantage of the upper- and lower-octave content in the fuzz. With guitar volume lower, you can access some unbelievably emotive and sensitive sounds that still teeter on the edge of chaos and violence. It’s a rich, volatile circuit that gets as close as I’ve heard to a sound and physical feeling I’d call “planet-destroying.”
Charles Saufley - Gear Editor
My first fuzz, A Sovtek Big Muff, remains tied for first place among many favorites. The pedal’s most famous virtues—corpulence and sustain—are among the reasons I treasure it. But the way the Sovtek pairs with a Rickenbacker 330 and Fender Jaguar, which were once my two primary guitars for performance and recording, made it invaluable in various projects for a long time. Neither the Ricky nor the Jag are sustain machines, but the wailing mass of theBig Muff makes their focused voices an asset—inspiring tight, concise fuzz phrases, hooks, and riffs as well as articulate chords.
A silicon Fuzzrite clone built by good pal Jesse Trbovich (long-time member ofKurt Vile’s Violators) runs second place to the Sovtek in terms of tenure, and is a very different fuzz. It’s a piercing, hyper-buzzy thing, but a perfect match for a squishy 1960s Fender Bassman head and 2x12 I adore. Perversely, I sometimes couple it with a Death By Audio Thee Ffuzz Warr Overload or Wattson FY-6 Shin-Ei Super-Fuzz clone. These tandems create chaos and chance, but sing loud and melodiously too—at least when I’m not intentionally bathing in feedback. The Jext Telez Buzz Tone, a clone of the mid-’60s Selmer circuit, is often my go-to now. It’s a low-gain affair compared to the other fuzzes here, and I use it in its even-lower-gain (and vintage-correct) 3-volt setting. It’s pretty noisy, but it is thick, dynamic, detailed, raunchy, and plenty trashy when the occasion demands it. It’s also a very cool overdrive when you back off the gas.
Jason Shadrick - Managing Editor
I rarely need fuzz in my everyday gigs, but it's one of the most fun effects to explore when I'm noodling around. At a NAMM show a few years ago I plugged into Mythos' Argo and as soon as I hit a note my eyes lit up. The sound of the fuzz wasn't unwieldy or hard to manage. It gave me the illusion of control while the octave was the magic dust on top. I knew right then I wasn't leaving the show without one. After I spent some time with it, I became enamored by how much more the Argo can do.
It's inspired by the Prescription Electronics C.O.B. (Clean Octave Blend), so the control set is similar. The octave is always present in the signal path, but you can dial it out with the blend knob. The fuzz and volume knobs are self explanatory, but dialing the fuzz and octave knobs all the way down gives you a killer boost pedal. I find my favorite settings are at the extremes of the fuzz and blend ranges. Typically, both are either all the way up or all the way down. Another great experiment is to turn the fuzz down and then pair it with a separate drive pedal. And in octave mode, Argo is one of those pedals that inspires you to head directly for the neck pickup and stay above the 12th fret.
On the surface, fuzz is an almost barbarian concept—a nasty sound that’s easy to grasp in our imaginations. But contrast David Gilmour’s ultra-creamy Big Muff sounds with James Gurley’s free and visceral fuzz passages from Big Brother and the Holding Company’s Cheap Thrillsand you remember that two different fuzzes, in the hands of two different players, can speak very different languages. The latter artist concerns us here because Gurley did his work with a Jordan Boss Tone, which is the inspiration for the Ananashead Spirit Fuzz.
Ananashead’s Pedro Garcia has a knack for weirder 1960s fuzzes. HisMeteorite silicon Fuzzrite clone, for instance, is a knockout. This take on the two-transistor Boss Tone is equally thrilling, and genuinely idiosyncratic when it runs at full tilt. It exhibits tasty inherent compression, and transient notes ring out as pronounced and concise before blooming into full viciousness—a quality that shines when paired with neck-position humbuckers (and which probably made the original circuit appealing to Spirit’s Randy California, another 1960s Boss Tone devotee). That tone profile gives the Spirit Fuzz meatiness that stands out among ’60s-style two-transistor circuits, and the sense of mass, combined with the pedal’s intrinsic focus, makes it superb for tracking. The Spirit loves humbuckers, which coax real sweetness from the circuit. But it was just as happy to take a ride with a Jaguar bridge pickup and an old Fender Vibrolux with the reverb at 10. Sounds painful, right? On the contrary, it was one of the most haunting fuzz sounds I can remember playing.
John Doe and Billy Zoom keep things spare and powerful, with two basses and a single guitar–and 47 years of shared musical history–between them, as founding members of this historic American band.
There are plenty of mighty American rock bands, but relatively few have had as profound an impact on the international musical landscape as X. Along with other select members of punk’s original Class of 1977, including Patti Smith, Richard Hell, and Talking Heads, the Los Angeles-based outfit proved that rock ’n’ roll could be stripped to its bones and still be as literate and allusive as the best work of the songwriters who emerged during the previous decade and were swept up in the corporate-rock tidal wave that punk rebelled against. X’s first three albums–Los Angles, Wild Gift, and Under the Big Black Sun-were a beautiful and provocative foundation, and rocked like Mt. Rushmore.
Last year, X released a new album, Smoke & Fiction, and, after declaring it would be their last, embarked on what was billed as a goodbye tour, seemingly putting a bow on 47 years of their creative journey. But when PG caught up with X at Memphis’s Minglewood Hall in late fall, vocalist and bassist John Doe let us in on a secret: They are going to continue playing select dates and the occasional mini-tour, and will be part of the Sick New World festival in Las Vegas in April 12.
Not-so-secret is that they still rock like Mt. Rushmore, and that the work of all four of the founders–bassist, singer, and songwriter Doe, vocalist and songwriter Exene Cervenka, guitarist Billy Zoom, and drummer D.J. Bonebreak–remains inspired.
Onstage at Minglewood Hall, Doe talked a bit about his lead role in the film-festival-award-winning 2022 remake of the film noir classic D.O.A. But most important, he and Zoom let us in on their minimalist sonic secrets.
Since X’s earliest days, Billy Zoom has played Gretsches. In the beginning, it was a Silver Jet, but in recent years he’s preferred the hollowbody G6122T-59 Vintage Select Chet Atkins Country Gentleman. This example roars a little more thanks to the Kent Armstrong P-90 in the neck and a Seymour Duncan DeArmond-style pickup in the bridge. Zoom, who is an electronics wiz, also did some custom wiring and has locking tuners on the guitar.
More DeArmond
Zoom’s sole effect is this vintage DeArmond 602 volume pedal. It helps him reign in the feedback that occasionally comes soaring in, since he stations himself right in front of his amp during shows.
It's a Zoom!
Zoom’s experience with electronics began as a kid, when he began building items from the famed Heath Kit series and made his own CB radio. And since he’s a guitarist, building amps seemed inevitable. This 1x12 was crafted at the request of G&L Guitars, but never came to market. It is switchable between 10 and 30 watts and sports a single Celestion Vintage 30.
Tube Time!
The tube array includes two EL84, 12AX7s in the preamp stage, and a single 12AT7. The rightmost input is for a reverb/tremolo footswitch.
Set the Controls for the Heart of the Big Black Sun
Besides 3-band EQ, reverb, and tremolo, Zoom’s custom wiring allows for a mid-boost that pumps up to 14 dB. Not content with 11, it starts there and goes to 20.
Baby Blue
This amp is also a Zoom creation, with just a tone and volume control (the latter with a low boost). It also relies on 12AX7s and EL84s.
Big Bottom
Here is John Doe’s rig in full: Ampeg and Fender basses, with his simple stack between them. The red head atop his cabs is a rare bird: an Amber Light Walter Woods from the 1970s. These amps are legendary among bass players for their full tone, and especially good for upright bass and eccentric instruments like Doe’s scroll-head Ampeg. “I think they were the first small, solid-state bass amps ever,” Doe offers. They have channels designated for electric and upright basses (Doe says he uses the upright channel, for a mid-dier tone), plus volume, treble, bass, and master volume controls. One of the switches puts the signal out of phase, but he’s not sure what the others do. Then, there’s a Genzler cab with two 12" speakers and four horns, and an Ampeg 4x10.
Scared Scroll
Here’s the headstock of that Ampeg scroll bass, an artifact of the ’60s with a microphone pickup. Doe seems to have a bit of a love/hate relationship with this instrument, which has open tuners and through-body f-style holes on its right and left sides. “The interesting thing,” he says, “is that you cannot have any treble on the pickup. If you do, it sounds like shit. With a pick, you can sort of get away with it.” So he mostly rolls off all the treble to shake the earth.
Jazz Bass II
This is the second Fender Jazz Bass that Doe has owned. He bought his first from a friend in Baltimore for $150, and used it to write and record most of X’s early albums. That one no longer leaves home. But this touring instrument came from the Guitar Castle in Salem, Oregon, and was painted to recreate the vintage vibe of Doe’s historic bass.
