Premier Guitar

Winnipeg band Propagandhi’s new record was fully written when bassist Todd Kowalski showed up to a rehearsal with a rough, weird demo of a slow, lurching metal song. Vocalist and guitarist Chris Hannah, who splits principal songwriting duties with Kowalski, was pissed. “I’m like, ‘For fuck’s sake man, at the eleventh hour? Are you serious? Another song and one where I have to learn a new guitar technique? Whatever.’” The band—Kowalski, Hannah, drummer Jord Samolesky, and guitarist Sulynn Hago—began playing the song, which is now called “Guiding Lights,” and within a short time, Hannah realized that they’d just found the opening track for their new album. “You never know how something’s gonna unfold,” he says, “and you have to remain open to changes as the writing goes along.”

At Peace is Propagandhi’s eighth full-length, and their first in eight years, after 2017’s Victory Lap. It features some of their more experimental compositions, like the aforementioned opener, and the prog-metal ballad “Stargazing,” which is one of the gentlest songs in Propagandhi’s almost 40 years together. There’s the slowed-down hard rock of “No Longer Young,” and the sort of late-career downtempo metal of “Benito’s Earlier Work” and “Day By Day.” There are doses of skate-punk, thrash, and melodic hardcore here, too, but At Peace certainly marks a new speed for Propagandhi.

“We almost pushed ourselves in the opposite direction that we usually push ourselves,” says Hannah. “We’re usually looking for ‘frantic and dense, out of control.’ This record, we thought, ‘We’re going to push ourselves in the opposite direction, out of our comfort zone, into under-control, lots of space, room for things to bloom.’ For us, that meant slowing down.”

“I was working on just being able to play simple, mechanical things at much slower speeds. I realized when I did it for a long time, and I got okay at it, when I sped it up, it was so much better.”

The tempos of some of the songs on At Peace were uncomfortably slow. For decades, Propagandhi has been a band that either plays fast or really fast, and Hannah simply didn’t know how to play riffs at much less than breakneck speed. Judas Priest’s 2018 record Firepower was an energetic inspiration for the new approach. “There’s an essence to that record that I think we were all hoping to evoke in writing these songs,” says Hannah. “It’s not an aesthetic thing, like we don’t have any of the ornamentation or performance capabilities of the guys in Judas Priest, but we wanted to honor something that we heard in that record, and I think that drove us to dial things back a bit and open it up. It harkens back to the music we first were inspired by in the ’80s, like the thrash-metal scene. The sense that you are being vaulted into outer space by the performance of the band was really important to us, but those bands also were able to control things.”

The downshift was especially difficult for Hannah. He never had a guitar teacher growing up, so he’s always figured things out for himself. That means that now, in his 50s, he’s still trying to correct “bad” techniques that he’s developed over the years. One of them is playing too fast. When Hannah comes up with a high-velocity riff now, he sets a metronome and tries to play it at half speed. The point is to determine if the phrasing is still intelligible; if it’s not, he’s not playing it right when it’s at full speed, either. “I was working on just being able to play simple, mechanical things at much slower speeds,” he says. “I realized when I did it for a long time, and I got okay at it, when I sped it up, it was so much better. In the course of doing that, sometimes you discover the slower speed is actually better. The stuff you’re trying to do gets more of a chance to be heard instead of just blowing by everybody.”

Another key part of Hannah’s style has been to hide his playing behind high-gain signals; during the making of At Peace, he was determined to break that pattern. Inspired by lower-gain metal records like Nuclear Assault’s Game Over and Hallows Eve’s Monument, Hannah dialed in less distortion, aiming to play his parts with as little gain as possible on his EverTune bridge-equipped Gibson SG, running into a Friedman BE-100 head. The Friedman’s sheer power helped maintain a feeling of chaos, but so did a custom guitar built by Winnipeg’s Allan Beardsell, which didn’t have an EverTune bridge—Hannah’s request. “EverTune made an amazing invention, and nine times out of 10 that’s what I want to play, but you have to give up something for that, and you give up just a touch of chaos and variability,” says Hannah.

Chris Hannah’s Gear

Guitars

1997 Gibson SG with EverTune bridge, Bare Knuckle Pickups Nailbomb in the bridge, and Seymour Duncan JB in the neck

Allen Beardsell-built custom electric

Amps

Marshall JCM2000 DSL 50-watt head (live)

Friedman BE-100 (2015 revision; studio)

’90s Mesa/Boogie Rectifier angled 4x12 (de-tolexed) with two Celestion V30s on the bottom and two Celestion G12M Greenbacks on the top

Effects

Fractal VP4

Strings & Picks

Jim Dunlop Flow Gloss 2 mm and 3 mm picks

Any string brand (.010-.046 or .010-.052)

Writing and recording these songs, says Hannah, “the best part of being in a band is being in the practice space. Everything outside the practice space door is almost universally bullshit. I don’t like touring, I don’t like playing live, I don’t like any of it. I like being in the practice space, because there’s where you are literally playing, you know, exploring.”

The title At Peace, says Hannah, is paradoxical. “It’s earnest, but it’s also sardonic,” he explains. “There has to be some meaningful aspect to our time on earth. I keep bringing up this old adage: ‘Accept what you can’t change, and change what you can’t accept.’ But in this era, there are some things that we cannot accept that we also cannot seem to change at this point. The trajectory and the momentum behind the insanity is very daunting and frightening. So what do you do? Sure, I could read Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now and develop a mindset where I accept what is happening. But can I live with myself? I find life under this particular system of organization to be a constant state of humiliation. How do I find meaning within that? As somebody who has kids, how do I face my kids to not seem like I’ve just lived the life of a coward the whole time in the face of all this?”

“This record, we thought, ‘We’re going to push ourselves in the opposite direction, out of our comfort zone.’ For us, that meant slowing down.”

The title song itself is a series of explorations of darkness, and meditations of a sort on trying to resolve our world’s exhausting contradictions. The last line is lifted from the Canadian songwriter Bruce Cockburn’s “Lovers in a Dangerous Time”: “Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight/Got to kick at the darkness ’til it bleeds daylight.” Here, Hannah belts the final word over the furious clang of the main guitar riff.

The track and the record arrive at a time when it feels as though a new threshold for global-scale madness and cruelty is reached each week, and Propagandhi’s music still functions as a flaying of this international order. (“This is the one place where I can tell the world what I really think of it,” says Hannah.) But there’s a resignation to At Peace, too—a feeling of acceptance that we’re on a sinking ship. Hannah’s just not sure where we go from here. “You can see I don’t really have an answer, but that’s kind of the point of the song, and maybe even the title of the record,” says Hannah. “I don’t know what the answer is in this insane world anymore.”

YouTube

The brutal, moving animated video for At Peace’s title track illustrates the mindset of the always-political Propagandhi in 2025.

Adding to the company’s broad ranging product line, DiMarzio has introduced three new models this summer: a pair of brand new pickups for beefing up your Tele-style guitar, and a new configuration of the legendary Super Distortion humbucker.

The DP436 Muscle T Neck retains all the dynamic response of a good early sixties Tele® pickup but adds more of the glassy sparkle that guitarists crave. The Muscle T™ Neck has been carefully calibrated with extra volume and presence to keep up with the needs of today’s players, and the overall musical character delivers a better string-to-string balance for rhythms that cut and precise soloing.

Both models are drop-in replacements for standard Telecaster pickups and offer traditional 2-conductor wiring.

The DP437 Muscle T™ Bridge and DP436 Muscle T™ Neck pickups capture the best attributes of classic 1960s vintage Telecaster pickups with a dash of added output.

The DP437 Muscle T Bridge utilizes a traditional magnet stagger inspired by early ‘60s Tele® pickups, but DiMarzio has kicked the output up a notch to get more sustain and added warmth to the top end to eliminate the harshness. The balanced lows, mid-range snarl and clear top end make the Muscle T™ perfect for any player that wants legendary single coil Tele® tone with a modern touch.

DiMarzio’s DP500CR Super PAF® Ceramic is a new version of the legendary pickup that put high-output ceramic humbuckers on the map, now available with a vintage PAF® look.

The original Super Distortion® started a sound revolution. Replacement pickups simply didn’t exist before the invention of the Super Distortion® in the early Seventies. The Super Distortion® (and its original 3-conductor version, the Dual Sound®) was the first pickup specifically designed to kick a tube amp into total overdrive, brandishing a perfect blend of power and tone: both single-notes and chords jump out of the amp and fill the room (or the track) with a wall of sound.

DiMarzio’s DP500CR Super PAF® Ceramic delivers the classic sound you’ve heard for five decades on platinum records from players as varied as Ace Frehley, Al Di Meola, Phil Collen, Tom Scholz, and Paul Gilbert. It’s also versatile: 4-conductor wiring allows instant access to Strat®-like split and series-parallel modes.

Street pricing for the DP437 Muscle T™ Bridge and DP436 Muscle T™ Neck is $89 each. The DP500CR Super PAF® Ceramic carries a $99 street price. Each pickup is individually hand-wound and tested in DiMarzio’s New York City factory. For more information visit dimarzio.com.

Synth-bass pedals have been around for a long time. They’ve come in a wide variety of flavors and achieved various degrees of success as far as tones and designs go. But, in my experience, they are a class of pedals that are tough to get right. Tracking and latency are always challenges. And they don’t always do a great job of approximating vintage synth-bass patches from classic recordings—specializing in sounds better suited for a sci-fi movie or avant/experimental projects than a Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson context. MXR’s new Bass Synth, however, delivers where so many other bass synths fall short.

Source Material

In developing the Bass Synth, MXR called on Ian Martin Allison for an artist’s perspective. Allison is a Minneapolis-based bass player with a prominent session resume, a regular on the very popular Scott’s Bass Lessons, and maintains a steady gig with singer-songwriter Eric Hutchinson. He also maintains his own strong online following by creating and sharing synth-bass-style tones made with traditional pedal combinations and his programmable multi-effects unit. Allison’s faithful reproductions of classic synth sounds created with electric bass made him the ideal sounding board for the MXR team.

Can’t Judge a Book by Looking at the Cover

At a glance, the MXR Bass Synth looks pretty conventional. There are just six rotary controls and a few buttons. But looks, in this case, are deceiving. The MXR is feature-packed, and I couldn’t possibly cover all of them here. But the in-depth, 30-minute video instruction manual Jim Dunlop put up on YouTube hints at the expansiveness of its potential.

For the convenience-minded player—or synth beginner—the heart, soul, and saving grace of this pedal might be the presets. Many bass players have limited experience with the process of real creative synthesis via waveforms and filters, and MXR’s factory presets help fast-track the leap to bass-synth sound design. There are many useful departure points and they make the pedal instantly usable. Allison had a hand in developing the presets, and most are easy to incorporate into your playing style. They include sounds inspired by Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” Stevie Wonder’s TONTO synth, the Minimoog sound on Funkadelic’s “Flashlight,” as well as modern patches inspired by specific songs and artists as diverse as Björk, Nine Inch Nails, and Deadmau5—and that’s a short list of what’s here. There are user-programmable presets, too, of course, and expression-pedal compatibility enables filter sweeping and other effects.

Like an Old, Funky Friend

The first thing I did when I plugged the Bass Synth in was engage the preset for “Thriller.” I tweaked the sub-mix control ever so slightly to add a little more bottom to the sound and was knocked out by the accuracy of the tracking. Even when I added lots of vibrato and dramatic slides—moves that would confound a lesser bass synth—the sound was punchy and clear, and with a tweak of the mix control I could let just a tiny amount of the original tone of my bass in to lend extra clarity. Best of all, though, I did not have to alter my playing to make these sounds work. The Bass Synth is both familiar and forgiving.

To get a handle on the breadth of the possible synth textures, check out the sound clip for the edgy “Flashlight” Minimoog-style patch (clip 2). This patch is an assault on the senses—intense, aggressive and conducive to overflowing sustain. This patch takes up space in the best way and makes me play much more economically, which is always a wonderful feeling. I was most excited about the “moneymaker” patch, though, which takes a cue from the Herbie Hancock classic, “Chameleon.” With its quick filter sweep and short, funky attack, it lends itself beautifully to staccato-style playing, and mixed in with a bit of my bass’ original sound, it’s a great alternative to an envelope filter.

The Verdict

Gamechanger. It’s an overused word, but MXR earns the title here. This unit gets us closer than ever to not needing to bring a keyboard to the gig. It is usable right out of the box yet contains endless opportunities for deep dives and creativity way beyond what the relative simplicity of the pedal suggests. Whether you have no experience with synth bass or you are a daily key bass player, you should get this pedal. The Bass Synth might not be for every bassist, but if you’re expected to cover a lot of tonal ground or are just a restless bass explorer, it is potentially a staple with a strong chance of staying on your board forever.

Ozzy Osbourne, the iconic solo artist and singer for heavy metal pioneers Black Sabbath, has died at age 76. His family confirmed his passing in a statement on Tuesday, July 22.

“It is with more sadness than mere words can convey that we have to report that our beloved Ozzy Osbourne has passed away this morning,” the statement began. “He was with his family and surrounded by love. We ask everyone to respect our family privacy at this time.”

Born John Michael Osbourne in Marston Green, England, in 1948, Ozzy was inspired to become a musician after hearing the Beatles’ hit “She Loves You.” He linked up with guitarist Tony Iommi, drummer Bill Ward, and bassist Geezer Butler around 1968, and by August 1969, they’d renamed their band Black Sabbath, after the 1963 film of the same moniker.

With Osbourne’s mournful, weighted howl at the helm, Black Sabbath released some of heavy metal formative and most influential recordings. Their first two LPs, Black Sabbath and Paranoid, minted monumental rock-canon staples like “N.I.B.,” “The Wizard,” “Paranoid,” “War Pigs,” and “Iron Man.”

For their time, Black Sabbath’s sound and lyrics were disturbingly dark and heavy. Both fans and critics could agree on one thing: their music was “wicked,” each in their own sense of the word. It’s no surprise, then, that soon after Sabbath began releasing records, Osbourne and the band became frequent targets of religious groups accusing them of promoting Satanism and radiating “evil” energy. For their followers, that was exactly the appeal. Long before “horror rock” was a genre, Ozzy and Sabbath made music that shocked and unsettled listeners, confronting the cruelty, madness, and injustice of modern life.

“Throughout his career, Osbourne surrounded himself with celebrated, genre-defining guitarists.”

Throughout his career, Osbourne surrounded himself with celebrated, genre-defining guitarists, starting with Tony Iommi, whose crushing, downtuned Gibson SG-powered riffs not only defined Black Sabbath’s music, but helped to forge the sound of heavy metal itself. After Ozzy was fired from Sabbath, he teamed up with guitarist Randy Rhoads and launched his solo career with 1980’s landmark Blizzard of Ozz. The album catapulted Rhoads to international fame as a bona fide guitar hero. He could deliver towering, electrifying riffs and solos on tracks like “Crazy Train” and “Mr. Crowley,” but he also brought a classical and more emotional sensibility to Ozzy’s music, evident in the acoustic melancholy of “Dee” and the dramatic, environmental-apocalypse themes of “Revelation (Mother Earth).”

Diary of a Madman, their second album together, further established Osbourne’s solo career and cemented Rhoads, with his Karl Sandoval-built polka dot Flying V and Jackson V-style electrics (as well as the occasional Les Paul), as a guitar icon. Tragically, Rhoads died in a plane crash in 1982, and Osbourne eventually tapped the shredder Jake E. Lee as his permanent replacement. That partnership lasted for two more successful albums, Bark at the Moon and The Ultimate Sin, but it was in 1987 that Osbourne found his most longstanding guitar foil—20-year-old Jeffrey Phillip Wielandt, better known as Zakk Wylde, who auditioned to replace the recently departed Lee. Wylde’s shrieking pinch harmonics, scorching wah-pedal leads, and chorus-colored chording defined a new era of Osbourne’s musical life on songs like “No More Tears,” “Miracle Man,” and “Mama, I’m Coming Home.” Osbourne continued to collaborate with Wylde through the 2000s, and Wylde performed at Osbourne’s 2024 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony.

As he moved through his career, Osbourne was infamous as much for his music as for his wild antics—such as the never-to-be-forgotten bat- and dove-biting incidents. Though he achieved sobriety at various points in his life, his oft-imitated slurred vocal delivery and hell-raiser image remained his calling cards.

Osbourne had been battling a Parkinson’s disease variant, amongst other ailments, since at least 2020, which hindered his ability to perform onstage. At Black Sabbath’s final show, an all-day affair that took place on July 5 in their hometown of Birmingham, England, Osbourne sang from a chair topped with a black bat—an homage to his old foe, perhaps. Osbourne appeared visibly frail; nevertheless, it was a triumphant performance, as he powered through a short set of solo classics before reuniting with his old bandmates for four songs.

Osbourne’s “Prince of Darkness” moniker was often tied to the occult and sinister themes in his music, but he knew real darkness from an early age. He struggled with dyslexia in school, was sexually abused at age 11, and attempted suicide multiple times as a teenager. At 17, he spent six weeks in prison after robbing a clothing store. He did not arrive at darkness by choice; it was thrust upon him.

Over 50 years, Osbourne created music that faced down, rather than ignored, the bleak, lonesome truths of the human experience. Thanks to him, and the fleet of ace guitarists he worked with, generations have learned to embrace and probe the shadows lurking behind the light, and to make sense of them through ferocious guitar riffs and monstrous rock songs. Those are skills we’ll likely always need.

YouTube

Ozzy Osbourne performs “I Don’t Know,” the leadoff track from Blizzard of Ozz, with Randy Rhoads, bassist Rudy Sarzo and drummer Tommy Aldridge, in 1981.

Today, Fender Musical Instruments Corporation (FMIC) and the Fender Custom Shop (FCS) are proud to introduce the Limited Edition Ariel Posen Stratocaster®, an instrument with enough versatility and raw playing power to properly honor the virtuosic guitarist, songwriter, producer and vocalist. Posen’s playing is unique not just in its sheer technical proficiency and musicality, but in the way it spans a number of genres ranging from old delta blues to neo soul to good old fashion rock and roll. With this in mind, the Fender Custom Shop understood that Posen’s signature instrument had to come ready to tackle just about any sonic assignment under the sun. Thanks to a set of custom AP-90 pickups, designed in tandem with Tim Shaw, and simple but powerful controls, the Limited Edition Ariel Posen Stratocaster® can handle scorching hot solos and sultry chord work in equal measure.

“This is the most genuine and authentic representation of what I’m looking for in a guitar,” said Ariel Posen. “I was always a Strat ® guy and always felt most comfortable playing them, so it was important to capture those qualities. But the AP90 pickups really highlight my love for Jazzmasters—there’s something so open and airy about those guitars. More than anything, this Strat® embodies everything I love about Fender and condenses it into one instrument.”

Ariel Posen first arrived at the guitar after spending years on the road with his two parents, both touring musicians, and developing the musical itch for himself. While he began his journey on the piano, an adolescent love for ‘90s grunge and The Beatles found him swapping out the keys for a Strat®. Today, whether he is captivating packed venues across the world, on his upcoming U.S. Tour this fall, or regaling his social audience, Posen has carved out a place for himself among the heroes of modern day guitar playing.

From the Journeyman Relic® Faded Lake Placid Blue finish to the quarter sawn AA flame maple neck, the Limited Edition Ariel Posen Stratocaster® oozes with road worn charm. But don’t let this guitar’s vintage appeal fool you, it is outfitted with new, custom electronics that are versatile and powerful. A pair of pickups were custom made with Fender’s legendary pickup designer, Tim Shaw, to capture the full spectrum of Posen’s sonic vocabulary—from swampy, growling leads to glassy clean tones and everything in between, these pickups deliver perfect harmonic clarity across all playing styles. In tandem with the vintage-style hardtail Stratocaster® bridge and roasted alder body, it’s nearly impossible for this guitar to deliver anything short of full-bodied, resonant perfection.

LIMITED EDITION ARIEL POSEN STRATOCASTER® ($6,000.00 USD, £5,699 GBP, €6,799 EUR, $9,499.00 AUD, ¥1,045,000 JPY) From scorching, octave fuzz-soaked slide solos to beautifully crafted chord changes and soulful grooves, Ariel Posen’s guitar playing is unmistakable. As a self-proclaimed “Strat® guy,” Posen teamed up with the Fender Custom Shop to introduce the Limited Edition Ariel Posen Stratocaster®, creating the most authentic representation of what he’s looking for in a guitar. Drawing influences from both traditional Fender specs and more unconventional features, this Strat® can deliver anything from flowing, bell-like chime to gnarly, punchy tones.

The Faded Lake Placid Blue Relic® lacquer-finished 2-piece select roasted alder body, quartersawn AA flame maple neck and round-laminated rosewood fingerboard give this guitar the look and feel of a well-loved mid-‘60s instrument, while the dueling AP-90 pickups, simplified controls and cupcake knobs are distinctly representative of Ariel’s playing style and taste. The custom pickups were designed in tandem with Fender’s legendary pickup designer, Tim Shaw, to capture both the nuanced warmth and clarity of a vintage Jazzmaster® neck pickup and the powerful midrange bite of classic soapbar bridge pickups. When combined with vintage-style hardtail Stratocaster® bridge and roasted alder, these pickups enhance even the most gentle, subtle playing with full-bodied resonance and sustain.

Other premium features include 1969 “U” back-shape, 9.5” (241 mm) radius, 21 vintage upgrade (45085) frets, mother of pearl dot inlays, custom Caballo Férreo (master volume, master tone) wiring, 3-way switch, 3-ply parchment pickguard, vintage-style tuning machines bone nut, American Vintage ‘59-’64 string tree, deluxe hardshell case, Moody Leather Ariel Posen signature strap, The Rock Slide Ariel Posen signature brass slide, Dunlop Ariel Posen picks and certificate of authenticity.

Looking for versatility without cranking a stadium-level rig?

In this video, PG contributor Tom Butwin puts three sub‑50-watt amplifiers to the test: the British‑voiced Suhr SL15, the mid‑’60s American‑style PRS Sonzera 20, and the gig‑ready solid‑state Blackstar Debut 50R. Tom explores the tones, features, and ideal use cases of all three amps—highlighting who they're best suited for and how they perform in different setups. Which one fits your playing style and needs?

Suhr SL15 15-watt Tube Amplifier Head - Black Tolex/Gold Faceplate

SL15 15W Tube Head

PRS Sonzera 20 20-watt 1 x 12-inch Tube Combo Amp

Demo Sonzera 20W 1x12 Tube Combo

Blackstar Debut 50 50W Guitar Combo Amp Black

The Blackstar Debut 50R 50W Guitar Combo Amp

Sweetwater has announced the return of GuitarFest,which is coming to the company’s Fort Wayne campus on Saturday, September 27. The nation’snumber one online retailer for music makers will welcome guitar players and music fans toexplore manufacturer booths from some of the top guitar name brands such as Gibson, Fender,and Marshall. There will also be appearances by major artists throughout the day.

Now in its second year, Sweetwater’s GuitarFest promises a packed schedule designed to excite guitar enthusiasts and music lovers alike. Attendees will have the opportunity to hang out and connect with their favorite brands and some of their favorite artists.

“We’re thrilled to bring GuitarFest back for its second year,” commented Samantha Hunter, director of artist relations and campus events at Sweetwater. “We’ve taken everything we learned from last year’s event — along with the valuable feedback from attendees — and used it to make the experience this year even better. We truly believe 2025’s GuitarFest will be an unforgettable celebration for music lovers of all kinds.”

Sweetwater will showcase the latest guitar and related gear releases along with vendors on-site to answer and demonstrate the very latest guitar innovations. GuitarFest also marks the culmination of eight days of in-store deals as part of Guitar Month at Sweetwater.

Artist appearances will be announced in the coming weeks. Early registration for this free event is available now at Sweetwater.com/guitarfest/ where visitors can also stay up–to date on all the planned activities.

This event is family friendly and takes place on Sweetwater’s state-of-the-art campus located at 5501 US Highway 30 West in Fort Wayne. The Sweetwater campus includes the largest music store in the United States and other attractions for visitors to enjoy.

Frank Bello, best known as the bassist of New York’s legendary thrash metal pioneers Anthrax, has joined forces with Spector Bass to develop an all-new instrument. Dubbed the NC-4 Frank Bello, this bass is inspired by both Spector’s rich history and iconic American bolt-on bass design.

From its refined body contours and radiused top to the uniquely contoured neck heel, the NC-4 is built for speed, comfort, and stage-ready performance. Finished in a head-turning metallic purple affectionately named Tina Rose after Bello’s mother and grandmother and features a matching headstock, purple acrylic block inlays, and Bello’s signature EMG P/J pickup set.

Furthermore, the NC-4 features a solid Alder body, a 1-piece Maple neck, and a Maple fingerboard – a tonewood trio that delivers the perfect blend of warmth, brightness, and clarity. The neck profile, modeled after Bello’s favorite vintage instruments, offers a slim, broken-in feel that’s instantly familiar.

Finished with vintage-style chrome tuners, a modern adjustable bridge, and a brass nut for enhanced sustain, the NC-4 Frank Bello is ready to take on the world’s biggest stages – just like its namesake.

“Spector is known for quality. My signature bass is built for players and offers incredible tone, comfort, and affordability. From the neck profile to the woods, signature EMG pickups, and brass nut, this is my ultimate go-to for any gig, Anthrax or other.” – Frank Bello

The NC-4 Frank Bello is more than a signature model – it’s a statement. Available now at authorized Spector dealers worldwide.

$1499.99 US Street Price

For many of us, an electric guitar is as much a sound-design tool as a melodic vehicle. On the days and weeks when I can’t seem to coax a song or hook from my guitar, I love the release of just making noise, loops, and atmospheres that can bring me back around to the guitar as a conduit for melody. Meris’ Enzo X—which, on many nights, left me rapt in one of these less-self-conscious states—is more than a noise machine. Much more. In fact, it’s a very capable instrument in its own right: a polyphonic input synthesizer that also happens to work brilliantly with guitar and bass. And whether you’re looking for an elusive song’s magic side door or scoring a movie, Enzo X can crack open new states of guitar consciousness.

First, though, a word for those inclined to dive into a pedal like this recklessly: Figuring out how to save and recall presets is essential. Like any interactive synth stacked with many possible tone and mood departure points. It’s easy to get lost, forget where you came from, or lose track of the sonic gold you find in your meanderings. And there is indeed gold to uncover here.

Scare Tactics

Many of the sounds you can trigger with your guitar (or any instrument, for that matter) will be recognizable as cousins to classic analog synths. Working from factory presets, I found voices evocative of Minimoogs and ARPs as well as triggers for cool sequencing and arpeggiating effects. A player’s inner John Carpenter can run wild among these voices. (Try preset 52, “poly 77 artic” for a start.) And as I absentmindedly re-tracked The Thing in my head, I ended up really pleased—and creeped out—with the sounds I found in the chase.

More relatable guitar-oriented effects are here as well. There are many odd but operationally accessible phasers and envelope effects, to name a few. But the big fun is in probing the synth’s voices and working through how your playing adapts to each voice’s performance envelope. Many, for instance, rely on pitch or envelope triggering, which, at times, effectively deconstructs the fretboard and your sense of touch dynamics. Sometimes that yields frustration. But if you’re receptive to what the Enzo X gives back, you can open up pathways that reshape your sense of phrasing and timing and push back at your most obvious tendencies.

The Verdict

The Enzo X isn’t exactly easy to operate, but it isn’t unintuitive, either. The interface and menu design are inventive, functional, and, after some practice, pretty fluid. By the time I found my own creative orientation toward the pedal’s many powerful sounds, I’d achieved a fast-paced rhythm for working within the controls. At $599, the Enzo X is an investment. And it probably won’t be an automatic fit for most guitarists that are song-oriented in the most formal, familiar sense. But for the right player, the Enzo X could easily yield more musical return than another electric guitar or several pedals at the same price

Fancy filigree distinguishes a reader’s ideal manifestation of straight-ahead Telecaster essence.

Reader: Charlie KramerHometown: Arlington, VirginiaGuitar: CAM Custom Guitars T-Style

I’ve wanted a great Telecaster forever. I bought my first one back in the 1990s and I’ve owned five or six T-styles since, including Fenders, Squiers, G&Ls, and various knockoffs. None of them had everything I was looking for: twang with body, great playability, big frets, and a just-beefy-enough neck—something that could switch between rock and country like a boss. I’m picky; I’ve played guitar since the ’70s—gigging and recording actively—and, in that time, owned a couple dozen guitars from off-the-rack instruments to vintage Fenders and Gibsons, pawnshop weirdos, and some custom made ones, too. But if a guitar doesn’t speak to me, it gathers dust and then goes on Reverb.

A while back, my friend Chris Moreau at CAM Custom Guitars was cooking up something special. Chris made a couple guitars for Tracii Guns of L.A. Guns, so he knows his stuff. He also made a superb Flying V-style that my wife gave me as a Father’s Day gift a few years back.

Chris put together this T-style with an alder body, a roasted maple neck with Jescar stainless-steel frets sourced from Havok Guitars, Fender Pure Vintage ’64 Telecaster pickups, and an engraved Wanby bridge and control plate. Then, Greg Wells at DoubleU Design Studio in Falls Church, VA, burned an amazing paisley design into the top with a Glowforge laser engraver.

“When plugged into a cranked amp, it could move from Waylon Jennings to Jimmy Page by just adjusting the volume and tone knobs.”

I watched with envy when Chris listed it for sale, and I had to play it before he sold it! But as soon as I had it in my hands, I had to have it. It rang like a piano, and when plugged into a cranked amp, it could move from Waylon Jennings to Jimmy Page by just adjusting the volume and tone knobs. The big stainless frets made bends smooth and easy. I wrote him a check and got out of there with my new prize.

Since then, it’s been one of my main gigging and recording guitars. I used it on a demo for my band Mother of States and played it onstage with the Vaping Nuns (a band I play in with Chris and Greg). When I’m taking a break from work or want to run scales, it’s my go-to instrument—always just a few feet from my desk. Finally, I have the T-style of my dreams!

Buddy Guy’s high-energy, crowd-strolling performances set the bar for every electric blues and blues rock guitarist who came after him. And that includes Jimi Hendrix.

Buddy changed the game and left an indelible mark on the sound of electric guitar playing. He’s still out there, delivering incendiary performances to stages all over. On this episode, we’re talking about one of the last blues guitar showmen, whose polka dot signature Strat caught both of our eyes. Where’s the best place to start? And where did Buddy get all that energy?

Thanks to our Sponsor, Xvive!

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Suspended chords have a unique sound and play an important role in a variety of styles of music. A quick internet search will give you the basic theory, but few articles help you actually apply these ambiguous sounds. You see, these chords are neither major nor minor, so where do they fit in? Let’s find out.

What Is a Sus Chord?

Suspended chords are notated in shorthand with “sus,” and there are two types: a sus4, and a sus2. If you see a chord symbol that just says “Csus,” the implication is that the chord is a sus4. Starting with a basic C major triad (C–E–G) we simply move the 3 up a half step to the 4 of the scale (in this case, F). You end up with C–F–G, which is shown in Ex. 1. A word to the wise: Break down your major chord shapes and locate the 3. That is the note you need to move up one fret to turn it into a sus4 shape.

Suspended chords are typically the dominant chord in a key, also called the V chord. A Vsus4 chord creates musical tension and a sense of ambiguity. It will typically resolve back to the V chord and then resolve to the I chord. Look at Ex. 2 to see how this tension-release resolution sounds, and how it works on the guitar.

Dominant 7 chords can also be suspended as well. The process is the same, so your dominant 7 chord goes from 1–3–5–b7 to a 7sus4, which is spelled 1–4–5–b7. Ex. 3 shows some common C7sus4 to C7 voicings. You can find these dominant 7 suspended sounds in multiple styles and sub-styles of jazz, funk, and disco. Take a look at Ex. 4 to see some three-note voicings that are found in those styles.

Let’s continue with the C7sus4 sound, building it in a couple of different ways. The first is what is called a “polychord” (or sometimes a “change-bass” chord). If you play a Bb major triad over a C bass note, you have effectively built a chord that functions as C7sus4. It could be labeled as Bb/C and spelled C–Bb–D–F. This voicing is a very common sub for a traditional 7sus4 chord and has three of the four notes needed to create that sound. There’s no 5, but that’s ok. The 5 is a throwaway note when it’s not altered. The second way is to play a voicing that keeps the 3 and 4 but still sacrifices the 5, providing some interesting musical tension. Each of these voicings are seen in Ex. 5.

So, how do you play over a suspended chord?

Since a suspended chord functions as the V chord in a key, you would use the Mixolydian mode to play over that sound. Be careful to stay away from really bluesy guitar licks or running up and down the scale. Stick to sequences, patterns, or other structures, and listen to Ex. 6 for some possibilities.

The next couple of approaches use the Bb/C chord structure as inspiration. Remember that C7sus4 is the V chord in the key of F, and Bb is the IV chord in that key. Use that pair of triads to create your melodies since you have Bb–D–F and C–E–G at your disposal. If you line those notes up as a scale, you get C–D–E–F–G–Bb, which is just one note shy of the C Mixolydian mode. The difference is that you are organizing the notes in triads as opposed to a scale. Take a listen to Ex. 7 as one possibility on how to break up the triads while creating a solo.

Next, focus your solo on just the sound of the IV chord, or Bbmaj7. Experiment with limiting yourself to just the notes of the chord, Bb–D–F–A, and hear how they sound like the b7, 9, 11, and 13 of C7sus4. You can also loosen it up a bit, emphasizing those four notes while using some other scale tones, as heard in Ex. 8.

Last, but definitely not least, is to use the minor pentatonic that is a fifth above the root of your suspended chord. For C7sus4, you would play the G minor pentatonic scale, where G–Bb–C–D–F become the 5–b7–1–9–11 of the C7sus4 chord. This approach works really well since you have all the notes of your suspended chord, and the 9th for some added flavor. Again, blues licks probably won’t sound like you think. Try them out anyway just to hear that they don’t fit very well over a suspended sound. Take a listen to Ex. 9 for some non-blues pentatonic ideas.

Suspended chords have an open, undefined sound to them. They are neither major nor minor and need a slightly different approach when soloing to make it sound right. There are plenty of resources on triad pairs, pentatonic patterns, and hexatonic scales to keep you busy. Start with one approach and keep it simple.

Bad Cat Amplifiers has introduced the Mod Shop Black Cat 30 Head and Combo—the debut models from its new Mod Shop series and one of the final amplifier projects touched by Mark Sampson.

Before his passing, Sampson—co-founder of the boutique amp movement and one of the most respected circuit designers in the industry—collaborated with Bad Cat on a number of designs. Among them was a fresh take on the award-winning Black Cat. The result is a limited amplifier that blends Bad Cat’s signature character with a bigger, bolder voice, infused with Sampson’s distinct approach to tone shaping.

Key Features:

• 30 watts of EL84 Power – Four EL84s provide signature Class A chime, natural compression, and harmonic richness.
• All-new tone stack – Revoiced by Sampson for enhanced openness and dimension.
• Two independent channels – A rich, dynamic clean channel and a punchy, articulate overdrive.
• Studio-quality reverb and analog bias-modulated tremolo – Lush, vintage-inspired depth and movement.
• Built for real-world use – Buffered effects loop, multiple speaker outputs, and a direct line out for cab sims or IRs.

Handcrafted in Costa Mesa, California, the Mod Shop Black Cat 30 is built with premium components, custom hand-wound transformers, and a level of detail worthy of the Mod Shop name.

Combo Specs:

• Custom UK-made 12” Celestion Bad Cat speaker
• Dimensions: 23.75”W x 10.375”D x 19”H
• Weight: 48 lbs.

Head Specs:

• Dimensions: 20.75”W x 10.375”D x 10”H
• Weight: 31 lbs.

Both versions include a two-button footswitch (Channel Select and Tremolo) and come with a 3-year limited warranty.

The Mod Shop Black Cat 30 Head and Combo are available now and carry street prices of $2299 and $2499 respectively. To learn more or place an order, visit www.badcatamps.com

BOSS announces the RT-2 Rotary Ensemble, the latest member of the company’s famous compact pedal lineup. Rotary speaker cabinets are a vital part of the classic combo organ voice, and guitarists and other musicians have also used them to infuse iconic tracks with their distinctive depth and rich modulation. Powered by the latest BOSS advancements, the RT-2 distills this expressive spatial effect into a pedalboard-friendly footprint with three sound modes, deep tonal shaping, multiple audio output configurations, and advanced real-time sound control.

The most revered rotary speaker designs feature a spinning high-frequency horn (treble rotor) and a woofer that feeds into a rotating drum (bass rotor). Changing rotor speeds between fast and slow creates a steady stream of tonal shifts that players have long used for interesting sonic movement. The RT-2 authentically replicates these complex audio behaviors, coupled with two-way speed control, a Rise/Fall Time switch for adjusting the transition time between speeds, and a colorful indicator that shows the current rotation of the virtual rotors.

The versatile RT-2 has a three-position Mode switch for selecting a classic rotary speaker sound or two modern variations developed with custom BOSS tuning. There’s also a Drive knob to add pleasing distortion inspired by the tube amplification circuits in vintage rotary speaker cabinets. Via a rear-panel switch, this dual-function control can be assigned to adjust the volume balance between the treble and bass rotors for different tonal characteristics.

Real-time speed control is essential to the rotary experience, and the RT-2 includes many options to achieve it. The pedal switch offers four operation types with clever ways to bypass the effect and change speeds while performing. Connecting external footswitches provides independent speed control and access to a “brake” setting that stops the virtual rotors at their current positions for unique tones. Alternately, an expression pedal unlocks continuous control of level, drive, balance, and speed, complete with assignable settings for each parameter.

To learn more about the RT-2 Rotary Ensemble, visit https://www.boss.info.Availability & Pricing

The BOSS RT-2 Rotary Ensemble will be available in July 2025, for $239.99.

“To standby or not to standby, that is the question”

Are you using your standby switch correctly? Are you sure? It might be a little different than you think.

You have your on/off switch and, well, that makes sense. But standby? Okay, well, what is the flip side? In a tube guitar amplifier, it is “play.” Isn’t the flip side of “off” also play? Why are there two switches that do basically the same thing? Vacuum tube amps are a very old electronic technology, and there is a specific function for each of the two switches.

The on/off switch controls power to the entire amplifier by switching the line voltage on or off to the power transformer. The power transformer is the distribution hub for the energy inside the amp. If your amp doesn’t have a standby switch, then once you switch it on, all the energy is on inside the amp all at once. This isn’t a good thing for vacuum tubes. They need to warm up before they can function, which is why you get no sound from a tube amp when you first turn it on. Tubes only need about 45–60 seconds to warm up to function, but they do sound different and “better” once they get up to operating temperature. This can take five to 10 minutes, and once you actually start playing the amp and they get cooking, even more time to get that tone!

So the standby switch has a few functions. At cold start up, it allows the tubes time to warm up before applying the high voltage to them to operate the amp. While the amp is at operating temperature, if you are taking a break, it allows the amp to also take a break while maintaining operating temperature. And at the end of the session, it allows you to discharge the energy inside the amp. Here are the times you’ll use that switch:

Cold start

With the standby on, turn the power switch on. Allow the amp to warm up for a minute, then flip the standby to “play” position. There is no issue with waiting more than a minute, but shorter is bad. There is this thing called cathode stripping that happens when you apply voltage to a tube before it is fully warmed up.

In between sets or just taking a break.

You probably know how hot your amp gets when you’re jamming away. This is okay; tubes run on high temperatures, but all the other parts inside, not so much. So, give the amp a break. When you’re taking a break, switch to standby position. This keeps the tube warm but allows the entire amp to cool down. This also takes the high voltage off the circuit, so the parts’ life clock is put on hold, too. If you’re going for a long break, an hour or more, you can do a full shutdown and start from the cold-start procedure. Otherwise, you’re just wasting energy heating the tubes and the heaters do have a life span.

Shut down.

So far, it’s likely everything seems obvious. But here’s where people can get it wrong: It’s the end of the night, and you’re drained and done. Well, your amp wants to be too! Shutdown is a slightly different procedure than taking a break and allows the amp to drain all its stored voltages. After that last note, flip that on/off switch onto the off position. You can audibly hear the energy drain out of the amp as the last of the high voltage is dissipated by the tubes trying to operate, because the standby switch is still in the play position. The off position shuts down the heaters inside the tubes and the high voltage, so the last of the energy stored by the caps can drain out while the tubes are still hot. When you hear the last of that sound dissipate, the voltage inside is drained, and you can put the standby switch onto standby. Now, the amp is ready for the cold start up procedure.

What about amps that don’t have standby switches? They don’t need it. The Princeton Reverb, for example, doesn’t have a standby switch, but it does have a 5AR4 rectifier tube. The 5AR4/GZ34 tube has a controlled warm up. While the tube is cold, it will not pass high voltage for a set amount of time, about 45 seconds. This controlled warm up allows all the tubes in the amp to get warm before the high voltage comes on. So, it does the waiting to go from standby to play for you. You don’t have the take a break option anymore, so it is best to shut it down when taking long breaks. It automatically does the cold turn on and aforementioned shut down procedure.

But if your amp has a standby switch, use it!

You wouldn’t expect Dann Huff, one of the most renowned studio guitarists, to feel nervous sharing his debut solo LP with a friend. But when that friend happens to be Toto’s Steve Lukather, a permanent fixture on the Mount Rushmore of L.A. session players, it’s easy to understand the butterflies.

“He said, ‘I want to hear your record,’” recalls Huff, 64, with a laugh, detailing the creation of the colorful and lovingly arranged When Words Aren’t Enough. “I said, ‘Sure, I’ll send it to you.’ Then as soon as I pressed send, I went into this almost-fetal position mentally. I thought, ‘I just sent it to one of the people I value so highly in my life.’ But it was great, the fact that I felt the fear.”

That story crystalizes the skills that propelled Huff to this moment: the confidence and curiosity it took to press that button, but also the humility it took to still feel those healthy nerves. After all, you have to be great—but also a flexible team player—to rack up the credits this guy has. And he’s had a career like few others in the business, both in the styles he’s explored and the roles he’s served: Huff rose up the ranks of the fertile ’80s session scene, where he recorded with everyone from Michael Jackson to Kenny Rogers, has played in both a contemporary Christian rock band (White Heart) and an AOR outfit (Giant), journeyed back to his hometown of Nashville and immersed himself in the pop-country world (Shania Twain, Faith Hill), ventured into marquee-level production work (most famously on Taylor Swift’s 2012 blockbuster, Red), and now—finally—released a fascinating album of his own.

Dann Huff’s Gear

Guitars

James Tyler Dann Huff Classic

1964 Fender Stratocaster

1959 Fender Custom Shop Stratocaster Reissue

Gibson Les Paul

Yamaha Classical Guitar (gut string)

Amps & Cabinets

REVV Dynamis D40 (40-Watt Tube Amp Head)

Matchless amps

Little Walter 2x12 Open Back Cabinet

Effects

Boss OS-2

Mr. Black SuperMoon

JAM Pedals Wahcko

“As soon as I pressed send, I went into this almost-fetal position mentally. I thought, ‘I just sent it to one of the people I value so highly in my life.’ But it was great, the fact that I felt the fear.”

When Words Aren’t Enough nods to so much of that range, moving from simmering dixie funk to cinematic orchestral rock to atmospheric and artful Americana. It sounds like the work of an artist stretching every single muscle yet never straining in the flex—a series of clean and jerks that sound awfully clean. But you can’t talk about this ambitious endeavor without exploring its true roots. “This project for me is basically a love letter to my emerging years, which is the late ’70s,” Huff says. “It’s everything that I built upon, everything that I love in guitar playing.”

The groundwork was laid when Huff was a kid. When he was around 10, his parents moved from the Chicago area to Nashville—with three sons and a whopping $800 to their name—as Dann’s dad, Ronn, pursued a career in orchestration. (“Man, he had some big cojones to do that!” Dann says, accurately.) The elder Huff’s career took off, and he found work with the Nashville Symphony, as well as occasionally in recording studios with rhythm sections. The latter intrigued his son, whose interest in the guitar started to grow around age 12. Dann had felt a sense of culture shock in Tennessee, but music became his guiding light. The more he glimpsed of his father’s work life, the clearer his path became. “My dad had a friend who was a session guitar player in Nashville named John Darnell, and he asked if [John] would come over and spend maybe 30 minutes to an hour with his 13-year-old son,” he recalls. “He came over one night, and I’ll never forget it. He taught me some scales and a couple chords. He kind of lit the fuse, and that was it.”

As an aspiring guitarist, the young Huff had the perfect entry point. His dad would offer to let him sit in the back of the room at the studio, where he’d meet “the cream of the crop” session players in Nashville—guitarists like Reggie Young, Pete Wade, and Dale Sellers. “To me, those were the rock stars,” he says. “You could go into a dark-lit studio, hear music for the first time, and make something new. I just thought that was the coolest thing. Why? I have no idea. There was no illusion that I wanted to go and be a rock star. Not even in the slightest, when I was a kid.”

“This project is a love letter to my emerging years, which is the late ’70s. It’s everything that I built upon, everything that I love in guitar playing.”

As a high-schooler in the mid ’70s, after years of practicing his chops in the basement, that dream started to become real. He played on friends’ demos at the local Belmont University, and he soaked in torrents of incredible instrumental music of that era: Larry Carlton, Lee Ritenour, Jeff Beck’s Blow by Blow, and Al Di Meola’s Elegant Gypsy, as well as Steely Dan’s Aja. “The list could go on, but it was so diverse," he says. “I was inundated with all these different kinds of music, all the Motown stuff. Everything interested me. And all of the sudden I started seeing these West Coast session players.” After playing on an album by singer-songwriter Greg Guidry, he was directly connected to some of those musicians, including former Toto bassist David Hungate. He was eventually hired for an L.A. session with soul legend Lou Rawls, kicking off a period of frequent commuting.

“At the time, Steve Lukather had all but vacated his chokehold—he was simply just the very best—because he was becoming a rock star,” Huff says. “I started booking myself on sessions. Back in the early ’80s, they still used contractors for a lot of the pop sessions. I said, ‘Just book me like I live out here.’” He would go out for stretches at a time, making a name for himself in L.A., but realized that this process wasn’t sustainable: “I didn’t realize I could charge for my hotels, my rental cars,” he says. “I did my own cartage. If I booked a session, my expenses would usually surmount that by 100 percent. But I was smart enough to realize I was investing in something, and it became apparent over the course of a year that I couldn’t keep hopping on planes, playing on big records in L.A., and coming back to play on demos in Nashville.” Around age 21, he and his new wife hopped on a plane and headed west, starting the next chapter of his life.

The ’80s flew by in a stream of sessions: Michael Jackson’s Bad, Barbra Streisand’s Emotion, Chaka Khan’s I Feel for You, Bob Seger’s Like a Rock, Whitney Houston’s self-titled, Madonna’s True Blue—every situation was different, and the ever-curious Huff learned something from almost all of them. “It was one of those perfect storms,” he says of this prolific time. But after the unexpected success of Giant, his melodic rock band featuring his brother David on drums, following the release of their 1989 debut, Last of the Runaways, he decided to move his talents back to Nashville. “I felt I didn’t need to do my studio career anymore,” he recalls. “[My wife] and I had just had our first kid, a daughter, and we felt, ‘As long as I’m gonna be doing this rock thing,’ which I’d never dreamt of doing, ‘we might as well do it from the comfort of where the rest of our families are,’ so we moved back to Nashville and I left my studio career. We cut a second Giant record, and by that point, Nirvana and Pearl Jam were out, so say no more.” Rather than move back to Los Angeles, he quickly found a niche in the Nashville scene, particularly within the world of country-pop/rock, playing on a series of enormous records—including a pair of multi-platinum monsters by Shania Twain, 1995’s The Woman in Me and 1997’s Come on Over, both produced by the singer’s revered then-husband, Robert “Mutt” Lange.

“I don’t have any illusions of what I can do on the guitar, so I have to dig deep into what I actually have roots in.”

Huff was once again ingrained in the session world—just a very different one—but Lange noticed his potential in another field. "I didn’t get into producing records because I wanted to," Huff admits. "I was lured into it, or encouraged into it, mainly by Mutt Lange. He sensed that the way I played studio guitar, I knew that it wasn’t about me. It’s about building something.” And that sense of songcraft, of having an eagle eye for arrangement and talent, served him well when he made that jump, working with artists like Swift, Rascal Flatts, and even Megadeth. It also wound up informing his first solo LP, When Words Aren’t Enough, which came about after some friendly prodding from fellow Nashville musicians Tom Bukovac and Mike Reid.

“Both challenged and embarrassed me: ‘Why don’t you play guitar anymore?’ ‘I play guitar on the records.’ ‘No, why don’t you play guitar?’” he says. “I didn’t have a good answer after saying no for dozens of years. I decided I would give it a rip. I wasn’t in tip-top form of guitar playing at this time, so it was humbling, but it felt right.” He gradually started putting together some demos, drawing on the pivotal period of teenage inspiration that first drew him to this wild life. “Runaway Gypsy” laces jazz-funk riffs with grooving Latin percussion and grand string parts—a cinematic stew that reflects the influence of Al Di Meola. The title of “Southern Synchronicity” is an overt nod to Police guitarist Andy Summers, but the song is way wilder than you’d expect, with shifting time signatures, funky drumming, and the fiery fiddle of Stuart Duncan. Meanwhile, the greasy “Colorado Creepin’” is a tightly coiled, wah-heavy highlight. (“You can probably hear a lot of my love of Jeff Beck,” notes Huff.) Every track—featuring the core of Huff, bassist Mark Hill, and drummer Jerry Roe—is virtuosic but tasteful, placing every show-stopping solo within the context of a hooky melody and satisfying musical arc.

Often utilizing large chunks of his demos, they knocked out the bulk of basic recording in a couple days—and that no-nonsense approach fits for a guy who spent decades as a quick-on-his-feet hired gun. The process made Huff “fall in love again” with his Stratocaster, which he hadn’t played for years, but the recording was intentionally bare-bones. “It wasn’t about amplifiers or all the equipment,” he says. “I used very little equipment on the record. When you’re trying to say something, just say it how you’re gonna say it.

“The gift of being older and not being, shall we say, in my ‘prime form’—my chops aren’t as fluid as they were when I was playing 10 hours a day—is that I had to define what I was interested in before I did this,” he says. “And what I’ve always been drawn to in music—and I saw a connection here—is composition. When the shape, the form, the melody, the dynamics, are correct, that allows you to improvise over it in a way that isn’t gratuitous or about you trying to prove yourself. I don’t have any illusions of what I can do on the guitar, so I have to dig deep into what I actually have roots in.”

He also wound up enormously proud of the record—but that’s not to say he didn’t feel anxious about it, illustrated by his exchange with the great Lukather.

“I went through a period after I finished this thing where I was absolutely terrified,” he admits. “I guess anybody would. It’s hard to hear yourself from another perspective. I can listen to other guitar players or musicians, and I just want to hear who they are. I’m critical, but with my music, it’s like, I know where the warts are, and I hear the limitations. It’s hard to hear it for what it is, but I thought, ‘If I don’t let go of this thing and stop trying to impress myself or everybody else, I’m never gonna do this.’ So I said, ‘Fuck it. I’m gonna put it out.’ So I let go, and that was the best decision I could have made.”

YouTube It

In this two-and-a-half-hour video courtesy of Vertex Effects, Dann Huff does a deep dive on his most recognizable guitar parts over the decades.

You wouldn’t expect Dann Huff, one of the most renowned studio guitarists, to feel nervous sharing his debut solo LP with a friend. But when that friend happens to be Toto’s Steve Lukather, a permanent fixture on the Mount Rushmore of L.A. session players, it’s easy to understand the butterflies.

“He said, ‘I want to hear your record,’” recalls Huff, 64, with a laugh, detailing the creation of the colorful and lovingly arranged When Words Aren’t Enough. “I said, ‘Sure, I’ll send it to you.’ Then as soon as I pressed send, I went into this almost-fetal position mentally. I thought, ‘I just sent it to one of the people I value so highly in my life.’ But it was great, the fact that I felt the fear.”

That story crystalizes the skills that propelled Huff to this moment: the confidence and curiosity it took to press that button, but also the humility it took to still feel those healthy nerves. After all, you have to be great—but also a flexible team player—to rack up the credits this guy has. And he’s had a career like few others in the business, both in the styles he’s explored and the roles he’s served: Huff rose up the ranks of the fertile ’80s session scene, where he recorded with everyone from Michael Jackson to Kenny Rogers, has played in both a contemporary Christian rock band (White Heart) and an AOR outfit (Giant), journeyed back to his hometown of Nashville and immersed himself in the pop-country world (Shania Twain, Faith Hill), ventured into marquee-level production work (most famously on Taylor Swift’s 2012 blockbuster, Red), and now—finally—released a fascinating album of his own.

Dann Huff’s Gear

Guitars

James Tyler Dann Huff Classic

1964 Fender Stratocaster

1959 Fender Custom Shop Stratocaster Reissue

Gibson Les Paul

Yamaha Classical Guitar (gut string)

Amps & Cabinets

REVV Dynamis D40 (40-Watt Tube Amp Head)

Matchless amps

Little Walter 2x12 Open Back Cabinet

Effects

Boss OS-2

Mr. Black SuperMoon

JAM Pedals Wahcko

“As soon as I pressed send, I went into this almost-fetal position mentally. I thought, ‘I just sent it to one of the people I value so highly in my life.’ But it was great, the fact that I felt the fear.”

When Words Aren’t Enough nods to so much of that range, moving from simmering dixie funk to cinematic orchestral rock to atmospheric and artful Americana. It sounds like the work of an artist stretching every single muscle yet never straining in the flex—a series of clean and jerks that sound awfully clean. But you can’t talk about this ambitious endeavor without exploring its true roots. “This project for me is basically a love letter to my emerging years, which is the late ’70s,” Huff says. “It’s everything that I built upon, everything that I love in guitar playing.”

The groundwork was laid when Huff was a kid. When he was around 10, his parents moved from the Chicago area to Nashville—with three sons and a whopping $800 to their name—as Dann’s dad, Ronn, pursued a career in orchestration. (“Man, he had some big cojones to do that!” Dann says, accurately.) The elder Huff’s career took off, and he found work with the Nashville Symphony, as well as occasionally in recording studios with rhythm sections. The latter intrigued his son, whose interest in the guitar started to grow around age 12. Dann had felt a sense of culture shock in Tennessee, but music became his guiding light. The more he glimpsed of his father’s work life, the clearer his path became. “My dad had a friend who was a session guitar player in Nashville named John Darnell, and he asked if [John] would come over and spend maybe 30 minutes to an hour with his 13-year-old son,” he recalls. “He came over one night, and I’ll never forget it. He taught me some scales and a couple chords. He kind of lit the fuse, and that was it.”

As an aspiring guitarist, the young Huff had the perfect entry point. His dad would offer to let him sit in the back of the room at the studio, where he’d meet “the cream of the crop” session players in Nashville—guitarists like Reggie Young, Pete Wade, and Dale Sellers. “To me, those were the rock stars,” he says. “You could go into a dark-lit studio, hear music for the first time, and make something new. I just thought that was the coolest thing. Why? I have no idea. There was no illusion that I wanted to go and be a rock star. Not even in the slightest, when I was a kid.”

“This project is a love letter to my emerging years, which is the late ’70s. It’s everything that I built upon, everything that I love in guitar playing.”

As a high-schooler in the mid ’70s, after years of practicing his chops in the basement, that dream started to become real. He played on friends’ demos at the local Belmont University, and he soaked in torrents of incredible instrumental music of that era: Larry Carlton, Lee Ritenour, Jeff Beck’s Blow by Blow, and Al Di Meola’s Elegant Gypsy, as well as Steely Dan’s Aja. “The list could go on, but it was so diverse," he says. “I was inundated with all these different kinds of music, all the Motown stuff. Everything interested me. And all of the sudden I started seeing these West Coast session players.” After playing on an album by singer-songwriter Greg Guidry, he was directly connected to some of those musicians, including former Toto bassist David Hungate. He was eventually hired for an L.A. session with soul legend Lou Rawls, kicking off a period of frequent commuting.

“At the time, Steve Lukather had all but vacated his chokehold—he was simply just the very best—because he was becoming a rock star,” Huff says. “I started booking myself on sessions. Back in the early ’80s, they still used contractors for a lot of the pop sessions. I said, ‘Just book me like I live out here.’” He would go out for stretches at a time, making a name for himself in L.A., but realized that this process wasn’t sustainable: “I didn’t realize I could charge for my hotels, my rental cars,” he says. “I did my own cartage. If I booked a session, my expenses would usually surmount that by 100 percent. But I was smart enough to realize I was investing in something, and it became apparent over the course of a year that I couldn’t keep hopping on planes, playing on big records in L.A., and coming back to play on demos in Nashville.” Around age 21, he and his new wife hopped on a plane and headed west, starting the next chapter of his life.

The ’80s flew by in a stream of sessions: Michael Jackson’s Bad, Barbra Streisand’s Emotion, Chaka Khan’s I Feel for You, Bob Seger’s Like a Rock, Whitney Houston’s self-titled, Madonna’s True Blue—every situation was different, and the ever-curious Huff learned something from almost all of them. “It was one of those perfect storms,” he says of this prolific time. But after the unexpected success of Giant, his melodic rock band featuring his brother David on drums, following the release of their 1989 debut, Last of the Runaways, he decided to move his talents back to Nashville. “I felt I didn’t need to do my studio career anymore,” he recalls. “[My wife] and I had just had our first kid, a daughter, and we felt, ‘As long as I’m gonna be doing this rock thing,’ which I’d never dreamt of doing, ‘we might as well do it from the comfort of where the rest of our families are,’ so we moved back to Nashville and I left my studio career. We cut a second Giant record, and by that point, Nirvana and Pearl Jam were out, so say no more.” Rather than move back to Los Angeles, he quickly found a niche in the Nashville scene, particularly within the world of country-pop/rock, playing on a series of enormous records—including a pair of multi-platinum monsters by Shania Twain, 1995’s The Woman in Me and 1997’s Come on Over, both produced by the singer’s revered then-husband, Robert “Mutt” Lange.

“I don’t have any illusions of what I can do on the guitar, so I have to dig deep into what I actually have roots in.”

Huff was once again ingrained in the session world—just a very different one—but Lange noticed his potential in another field. "I didn’t get into producing records because I wanted to," Huff admits. "I was lured into it, or encouraged into it, mainly by Mutt Lange. He sensed that the way I played studio guitar, I knew that it wasn’t about me. It’s about building something.” And that sense of songcraft, of having an eagle eye for arrangement and talent, served him well when he made that jump, working with artists like Swift, Rascal Flatts, and even Megadeth. It also wound up informing his first solo LP, When Words Aren’t Enough, which came about after some friendly prodding from fellow Nashville musicians Tom Bukovac and Mike Reid.

“Both challenged and embarrassed me: ‘Why don’t you play guitar anymore?’ ‘I play guitar on the records.’ ‘No, why don’t you play guitar?’” he says. “I didn’t have a good answer after saying no for dozens of years. I decided I would give it a rip. I wasn’t in tip-top form of guitar playing at this time, so it was humbling, but it felt right.” He gradually started putting together some demos, drawing on the pivotal period of teenage inspiration that first drew him to this wild life. “Runaway Gypsy” laces jazz-funk riffs with grooving Latin percussion and grand string parts—a cinematic stew that reflects the influence of Al Di Meola. The title of “Southern Synchronicity” is an overt nod to Police guitarist Andy Summers, but the song is way wilder than you’d expect, with shifting time signatures, funky drumming, and the fiery fiddle of Stuart Duncan. Meanwhile, the greasy “Colorado Creepin’” is a tightly coiled, wah-heavy highlight. (“You can probably hear a lot of my love of Jeff Beck,” notes Huff.) Every track—featuring the core of Huff, bassist Mark Hill, and drummer Jerry Roe—is virtuosic but tasteful, placing every show-stopping solo within the context of a hooky melody and satisfying musical arc.

Often utilizing large chunks of his demos, they knocked out the bulk of basic recording in a couple days—and that no-nonsense approach fits for a guy who spent decades as a quick-on-his-feet hired gun. The process made Huff “fall in love again” with his Stratocaster, which he hadn’t played for years, but the recording was intentionally bare-bones. “It wasn’t about amplifiers or all the equipment,” he says. “I used very little equipment on the record. When you’re trying to say something, just say it how you’re gonna say it.

“The gift of being older and not being, shall we say, in my ‘prime form’—my chops aren’t as fluid as they were when I was playing 10 hours a day—is that I had to define what I was interested in before I did this,” he says. “And what I’ve always been drawn to in music—and I saw a connection here—is composition. When the shape, the form, the melody, the dynamics, are correct, that allows you to improvise over it in a way that isn’t gratuitous or about you trying to prove yourself. I don’t have any illusions of what I can do on the guitar, so I have to dig deep into what I actually have roots in.”

He also wound up enormously proud of the record—but that’s not to say he didn’t feel anxious about it, illustrated by his exchange with the great Lukather.

“I went through a period after I finished this thing where I was absolutely terrified,” he admits. “I guess anybody would. It’s hard to hear yourself from another perspective. I can listen to other guitar players or musicians, and I just want to hear who they are. I’m critical, but with my music, it’s like, I know where the warts are, and I hear the limitations. It’s hard to hear it for what it is, but I thought, ‘If I don’t let go of this thing and stop trying to impress myself or everybody else, I’m never gonna do this.’ So I said, ‘Fuck it. I’m gonna put it out.’ So I let go, and that was the best decision I could have made.”

YouTube It

In this two-and-a-half-hour video courtesy of Vertex Effects, Dann Huff does a deep dive on his most recognizable guitar parts over the decades.

If you consider all the ways that the Stratocaster represents perfection, “feel” may not be the very first thing you think of. But while the svelte and curvaceous Stratocaster may be the definitive visual representation of “electric guitar” in a dictionary, and ring like a cathedral chime, the thing that distinguishes a great or priceless Strat from a merely good one is often its ergonomic excellence. Slim, light, contoured in all the right places, it’s a marvel of form following function. I’ve played a lot of old guitars over the years, but the one that I can still feel in my bones almost two decades later was a 1964 Stratocaster. The sight of it was beautiful enough to be forever etched in my brain’s visual cortex. But it was the feel of cradling that instrument, above all other things, that remains.

The Mexico-made Fender Player II Modified Stratocaster does much to underscore the tactile pleasures of Strat-ness. The rounded edges of the maple neck are as comfortable as an old baseball glove. The medium-jumbo frets lend a silky glide to finger vibrato and bends. The tremolo’s sensitivity and stability beckon a player to slow down and indulge in its bouncy precision. But the Player II Modified Strat’s delicious feel is also reinforced and enhanced by the sound of the Player II Noiseless pickups and the way the quiet performance invites deeper exploration of tone detail and dynamics. And the switching, which enables blends of the bridge and neck pickup to offer an even more expansive tone palette. The build quality is just about flawless, the locking tuners are a considerable asset, and at $1,049 it represents a solid deal at a time when new guitar prices are headed steadily northward.

Small Steps Forward, Big Returns

I’m a bit of a Fender traditionalist when it comes to necks. I like the vintage style 7.25" fretboard radius and a profile just on the chunky side. But between owning a few 9.5" radius Squiers that I love, and playing and reviewing enough contemporary Fenders with the same spec, I’ve come to appreciate the feel of the slightly flatter fretboard. For players that prefer the 9.5" radius and know Fender’s modern “C” profile well, this neck might not, at first, feel like much of a revelation. Indeed, Fender’s modern “C” is so ubiquitous it can feel almost generic. But the contoured edges do much to make the neck feel a little more vintage and make the Player II Modified a more inviting instrument in general.

Once you’re hooked on the feel of the Player II Modified, you’ll find the pickups even more alluring. If Fender sacrificed any classic tonalities in making the Player II Noiseless Strat pickups quieter, it’s hard to hear. I sense a little extra warmth and roundness in addition to a lack of 60-cycle hum—and the latter perception may color the former. But the output is anything but suffocated, and the relative quiet means a lot less ear fatigue when exploring overdrive and distortion tones, which are a great match for this instrument.

The real treat, though, is the push-pull switching on the treble pickup knob, which enables the addition of the pretty neck pickup to the bridge pickup and combined bridge/center pickup. And though I dutifully explored every single pickup and combination here (and was smitten with the middle position Jerry Garcia tones in particular), I had a hard time leaving behind the creamy/crispy combination of the neck and bridge together. If, like me, you often go hunting for the perfect crossover of sunburnt surfy top end to brighten up your Curtis Mayfield soul ballad tones, the Player II Modified will serve up this most delicious sonic fruit in abundance.

The Verdict

Fender’s marketplace competition for the very guitar it created has never been more intense. But the Player II Modified Stratocaster offers real, if incremental, improvements that enable Fender to stay at the top of the heap in the circa $1K solidbody segment. It allows players to experience everything that’s great about a Stratocaster without settling for an otherwise capable S-style with a weird-looking headstock. There’s room for improvement here and there: The vibrato could be a little more tuning-stable under heavy use and more softly sprung off the factory floor. And, at least to my eyes, an opportunity to make a really stunning looking Stratocaster was missed by slapping a very ’70s black pickguard on a green that evokes the playful custom colors of the ’60s. But there are plenty of more traditional color options elsewhere in the Player II Modified Stratocaster line. And if they all provide as pleasurable and inspiring a playing experience as our review instrument, Fender is well-prepared to take on all comers in this very competitive segment of the solidbody market.

Take it from the pros: There’s no wrong way to collect guitars.

Let’s talk about collecting.

Guitars, yes. But also … other things.

I’ll admit it—I’ve been a collector for a long time. It really kicked in after I joined the family business. Suddenly, I had a little disposable income and a curiosity for auctions. The kind you actually had to show up for—no internet, no clicking a button in your pajamas. Just paddles, raised eyebrows, and the thrill of the chase. I thought the things I brought home were cool. My wife Diane wasn’t always convinced.

But let’s bring this back to guitars. Yes, I absolutely collect them. Mostly Martins, old and new—as you might guess—but not exclusively. Some are personal, out of my own pocket. Others are for the Martin Guitar Museum collection, which I help curate with a team that shares the same passion. We’ve built something truly special, and I’m incredibly proud of what’s on display (and what’s waiting in the wings).

Like many museums, we can only showcase a portion of our collection at any one time. We rotate pieces, we loan to other institutions, and we keep looking for the next instrument that tells a story worth preserving.

A Favorite Find

One of my most memorable guitar acquisitions happened at Sotheby’s in New York. This time, I was bidding on behalf of the company. Diane and our daughter Claire came with me, though they were a bit less excited about the auction scene. (While I was scoping out guitars, they ducked over to the American Girl store around the corner.)

As luck would have it, the guitar I was there for came up just as they returned to the gallery. I was mid-bid—enthusiastic, focused. Diane overheard the auctioneer call out the latest bid and gave me that look. I was committed. I stayed in. And I won.

She walked over and asked, “What did you just do?”

“I bought another guitar for the museum,” I told her.

She half-smiled. It wasn’t cheap.

The guitar was part of Kenny Wayne Sultan’s collection, built from the same batch of 000-42s as Eric Clapton’s iconic model. Today, it’s an important piece in our museum’s story.

You might think I’d have enough guitars, especially with two factories full of them and a world-class museum in my backyard. But I love collecting. So I keep buying guitars. Full disclosure: I’ve used the employee discount more than a few times. Still do.

George Gruhn: Collector First, Dealer Second

I’m not alone in this. My friend George Gruhn (yes, that George Gruhn) is widely known as a legendary vintage guitar dealer. But first and foremost, he’s a collector.

George first caught the bug back in 1961, as a high school student in suburban Chicago. He didn’t even play yet, but he helped his brother pick out a 1929 Martin 0-28K. That was the spark.

“I became addicted to collecting,” George told me. “For every guitar I found for myself, I’d come across dozens more I didn’t want personally, but they were such bargains I could flip them to fund my next find. Gruhn Guitars is essentially a hobby that morphed into a career.”

When I asked George about a favorite find, he lit up.

“In 1974, a pawn shop near my store called about an old Martin. It turned out to be the most elaborately ornamented early Martin I’ve ever seen—made during C.F. Martin Sr.’s era. I sold it to Steve Howe of Yes, but years later, I had the chance to buy it back. It’s still one of the crown jewels of my collection.”

“You don’t choose what to collect. It finds you—one vintage archtop or parlor guitar at a time.”

These days, Gruhn’s approach has evolved.

“Early in my career, I traveled constantly. Now, I’m more like an angler—I dangle the lure, and people bring guitars to me.”

He also offered advice to new collectors: Always buy from a reputable dealer, and ask for written guarantees or certificates of authenticity. If you’re not experienced, get the instrument appraised by someone who is. And while provenance can be important in memorabilia items, which have added appeal and higher monetary value due to prior ownership by a famous performer, George believes the core of collecting is still about the instrument: its builder, its story, and its sound.

The Passion Play

George isn’t the only one I’ve learned from. Norm Harris of Norm’s Rare Guitars is another kindred spirit. You may have seen the documentary about him—if not, add it to your list. Norm might have a storefront, but some guitars? They’re part of the family.

Closer to home, my friend Fred Oster, who you might recognize from Antiques Roadshow, has been a generous mentor over the years. Fred once told me, “You don’t choose what to collect. It finds you—one vintage archtop or parlor guitar at a time.”

All of these folks blur the line between collector and dealer. Some deal to fund their collections. Some collect to enrich their understanding of the instruments they sell. Either way, it’s about passion.

For me, collecting guitars is more than a habit; it’s a love affair. And if it turns out to be a good investment down the line? Well, that’s just a bonus. You could put your money in a 4% treasury bond, but you can’t strum one of those on the porch.

Keep on collecting.

The PRS Archon amplifier was released in December 2013 and quickly made its mark with modern metal guitarists. In 2021, the amp disappeared from PRS’ product line before being reintroduced as more affordable, Asia-built, 50W combos and heads, which remain in production. The new Archon Classic isn’t merely a rehash of the previous Archon, however. It’s a completely new and very different design. While the original Archon was a study in extremes—with pristine cleans and an ultra-high-gain lead sound—the Archon Classic is more balanced with slightly grittier clean tones and a more mid-rich gain profile.

Designed by PRS’ Doug Sewell, who was a boutique amp designer when he met Paul Reed Smith at the Dallas Guitar Show when their respective booths were adjacent to each other, the 50W, two-channel, Archon Classic head is made in Indonesia and is priced at a very reasonable $1149.

The original Archon 100 used a fairly conventional set of four 6L6GC power tubes and six 12AX7 preamp tubes, but the Archon Classic is outfitted with two JJ 6CA7 power tubes and six JJ ECC83S preamp tubes. I wasn’t too familiar with the 6CA7 power tubes so I reached out to Sewell for clarification. “Performance-wise, this tube sits nicely between an EL34 and a 6L6GC,” explains Sewell. “When voicing the Archon, this tube best fit the circuit and tone we wanted to achieve. The original U.S.-built Archons shipped with 6L6GCs. The 6CA7 Archon Classic gives a touch more British vibe and sweeter mids. Apparently Eddie Van Halen’s plexi Super Lead 100W had 6CA7s. Enough said!”

Less is More

Operationally speaking, the Archon Classic is as straightforward as you can get. The control panel has independent sets of knobs for the clean and lead channels: volume (gain), treble, middle, bass, master volume, and bright toggle switches. There’s also a set of global control knobs for presence and depth (which adds low end).

The original Archon offered power scaling on the 50W and 25W models, but neither the reissue nor the Archon Classic offer the feature. This streamlining of the Archon’s controls is by design. Sewell adds, “As the Archon matured, our objective was to scale down the features, refine the tones, provide a much more cost-effective amp for a wider customer base, and break out of the metal niche many mistakenly perceived that amp to be in.”

While PRS opted for a stripped-down approach with the Archon Classic, the back panel retains the useful bias adjustment jacks seen in the original. This allows you to use a multimeter to assess whether tubes are dead or have drifted out of spec relative to the other tubes in the unit. Adjustments can be made using a small, jeweler’s Phillips head screwdriver.

Pure Tone Machine

Where the original Archon’s clean tones are hi-fi and pristine, the Archon Classic’s cleans are grittier, with more attitude. At its lowest clean channel setting, the output is already slightly driven, particularly when a bridge humbucker is in the mix. Using a single-coil yields a slightly cleaner tone, but with gain settings this low there’s not a ton of headroom to play with, even with master volume up pretty high. But by slightly bumping the clean channel’s volume up to 9 o’clock, the amp feels significantly louder and is much better suited for a band mix.

When I push the clean channel’s volume to noon and bash away on a bridge humbucker, the Archon Classic delivers beautiful breakup that is, to my ears, just right—not too dirty but not too clean. There’s a lot of gain available in the clean channel, and if you turn up the volume between 3 o’clock and maximum, you get various shades of rhythm guitar crunch, from “Won’t Get Fooled Again” to “You Shook Me All Night Long.” There’s also enough sustain here for classic-rock lead sounds. It’s not often I can get pinch harmonics to pop on an amp’s “clean” channel, but I did here, with ease.

Switching between channels is seamless and there are no pops or noise when clicking the one-button footswitch. The lead channel sounds voiced with a nod to ’70s and ’80s hard rock, rather than the more modern, scooped voice of the original Archon. With the lead channel’s volume around 10 o’clock, it’s about as dirty as the clean channel with its volume knob maxed. This is a great jumping-off point for creating an all-purpose, versatile two-channel setup, where I dialed the clean channel with the volume maxed for a hard-rock rhythm sound and bumped the lead channel’s volume to just under noon, to get a comparable but boosted sound for leads.

The Verdict

“Archon” is Greek for “ruler” and it’s not hyperbole to say the Archon Classic rules. Its simple design—the amp doesn’t even have a standby switch—makes dialing up killer sounds effortless, and such simplicity is huge when you want to get down to playing. The sole focus of the Archon Classic is tone, and that it delivers in spades.