Back in the mid-70’s (gawd, I’m dating myself), Eddie Van Halen redefined how players approached playing the guitar. His tapping techniques and blindingly-fast fingerwork, not to mention his natural showmanship combined with a dynamic frontman, and a HUGE sound completely transformed rock and roll.
But with EVH, at least for me, it wasn’t necessarily his technique and style that specifically appealed to me. Sure, I was completely awed by what he could do with his guitar. But even at the young age of 14 when I first heard Van Halen, what I felt truly set him apart was what was behind what he played. I always felt that with each solo, EVH had something to say; that there was some underlying message he was trying to communicate at the time.
Contrast that to the hair metal players that followed in his footsteps. I can’t name a single one except for Mick Mars from Motley Crue, and Brad Gillis and Jeff Watson of Night Ranger. Okay, I admit it: I wasn’t a fan of glam rock – at all. It sounded all the same to me. I figured if I heard one, I’d heard them all.
I wasn’t particularly a fan of the Crue back in the day either, and frankly, most of their songs just didn’t appeal to me. But Mick Mars wasn’t a pattern player, and I always felt he played stuff outside the very limiting box of glam rock. As for the other two, I dug Night Ranger as a band, and though they toed the glam rock line, their music was beyond it; but despite that, Brad and Tom’s playing just blew me away. They took all that flashy technique and said something with it. And even though Jeff Watson’s two-handed arpeggio technique could technically be called just a trick, what he could actually do with that was simply amazing; and again, I felt he had something to say.
Then there’s Glen Campbell. I don’t think anyone will argue with me that Mr. Campbell was perhaps one of the most influential guitarists – ever. I know, big claim. But as part of LA’s Wrecking Crew session group, Glen Campbell literally helped define the rock and roll sound. Back in the early days of the recording industry, groups weren’t writing their own songs, and god forbid they played on their own albums. It was up to musicians like Glen Campbell. And he was special… Check this out:
Every bit of phrasing in that solo just fits. And tell me Mark Knopfler wasn’t influenced by that. Whether directly or indirectly, some of that phrasing could easily translate to the great Mark Knopfler, also one of my all-time favorites.
I could keep going on about great guitarists, but they all have one thing in common. They all have something to say when they play. For me, I’ve always admitted that I’m not a fast player. Never have been, and I probably never will be. But I learned early on when learning how to solo that what’s behind what I’m playing is almost more important than what I’m playing.
Frank Zappa said this back in 1984 in an interview on MTV with respect to improvising: “I have a basic mechanical knowledge of [the] operation of the instrument, and I got an imagination. And when the time comes up in the song to play a solo, it’s me against the laws of nature. I don’t know what I’m gonna play, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I know roughly how long I have to do it and it’s a game where you have a piece of time and you get to decorate it. And depending on how intuitive the rhythm section is that’s backing you up, you can do things that are literally impossible to imagine sitting here.”
I heard that many years ago, and it has stuck with me since. I’m a “mood” player. My moods affect my solos. I don’t know if I have a particular message in mind when I’m playing, but what I try to do is communicate the mood I’m in at the time I play. I never know what my solo is going to be but I do know that I want to say something about how I’m feeling. Although I will admit that if I’m pissed, my solos are shit. ๐
I think it was an interview with Freddie King who said, “Playing guitar is like having a conversation with someone. You gotta ask yourself, ‘What are you trying to say?'” And I think that’s root of my problem with all the glam rock shit back in the day is the same problem I have with so much of the pop music out there now. It’s an exercise of “Look at me and all the tricks I can do!” or in the case of pop, just meaningless filler. I didn’t feel a connection with the music. It wasn’t talking to me.
And speaking of talking to me, though I’m not really a big jazz aficionado (I know what I like), I’ve always been in total awe of Miles Davis and his minimalistic approach. That man could say so many things in one or two notes that might take someone else 100 notes to accomplish. Check this out (I’ve set the video position to my favorite song on the album “Blue in Green” – it’s at about 19:00 if the video doesn’t start there):
That song is mesmerizing to me. Miles plays it with a muted trumpet. And he doesn’t play much at all. But what he does play speaks a thousand things to me. He totally proves the point that you don’t need to say much to say a lot. ๐
And as far as gear is concerned, no amount of gear is going to overcome an empty message. You might sound good, but if you don’t have anything to say (I’ll let you draw your own conclusions)…
What’s YOUR message?
I couldn’t have said it better myself. I have always thought EVH has lyrical phrasing similar to the best jazz players (like Miles). Mot of the shredders that came after him picked up on his revolutionary techniques but not that phrasing. The other thing EVH can do is groove (I think it has to do with him starting out a a drummer), that first Van Halen album makes me shake my hips more than bang my head.
Exactly. When a melody being played speaks to you, it becomes a completely enveloping, visceral experience. I’m re-listening to Green in Blue right now. ๐ There’s SO MUCH in Miles’ and Coltrane’s playing. Damn!