Since rock and rollers first started toppling over amplifiers, the style has kept its devil-may-care attitude of musical execution. Sheet music of Beethoven or Tchaikovsky dwarfs thrashy rock compositions in complexity and grandiosity.
And even though progressive rock would later close that gap, the primary difference between the traditional and modern approaches to music boils down on access to a single utility: electricity.
Modern musicians — and by modern, I mean since Les Paul first plugged in — wield far more control than non-professional musicians in the past. For instance, I own a distortion pedal and a tremolo pedal that I hardly use, which would have been unthinkable for some guy with a lute in the 1700s. I use an electronic tuner, as well, to spite that lute guy in secret jealousy.
Listening to current indie rock or R&B, it might seem like musicians no longer give as much effort to tasks like creating tone, or they are at least downplayed compared to the past. The signature classic rock tones of Hendrix, Lennon and Clapton feel like cherished remnants without no contemporary analog.
But the effort that goes into developing a singular sound has never disappeared. And if you’ve ever looked at a spectrograph of a song, you can easily note how wide of a range the guitar encompasses and the boisterous weight it carries in the mix.
Whether playing with the guitar alone like Chuck Berry and Ezra Koenig, or requiring two power boxes to fuel six reverb pedals, the guitar tone of a song often defines how listeners will recall it. And some guitarists take that responsibility with a fairly serious thought-process.
A longstanding pastime of mine is watching rig rundown videos on YouTube, where an artist or guitar tech explains the entirety of a guitar or bass player’s setup. The subtle intricacies of the tone of players like Kurt Vile and J. Mascis reflect the amount of reverb, flanger, compression, tremolo and other sound-altering options out there to someone with a big budget.
Outside of pedals, though, mixing can play just as crucial of a role in developing a tone. Tight compression leads to a robotic sounds as used by Josh Homme whereas looser, more natural mixing produces a calmer, more flowing feel much like the music of Florist.
Although not as popular as The Rolling Stones or Cream, 21st century bands like Real Estate, Mac Demarco, St. Vincent and Vampire Weekend have pioneered guitar tones distinguishable enough to forever be associated with those acts. However, without this level of care, these tones might have fallen flat or devolved into a muddy swirl of chords.
Granted, no two tones come exactly alike but many derive from unoriginal sources. It’s one thing to take influence from Tony Iommi or Jimmy Page, but to simply recreate a developed sound will clump whomever does it into the legions of indistinguishable hard rock bands. And besides, copying is totally boring when compared to creating, which retains a sense of ownership and achievement. Like a novel, a song tells a story and all the parts must support each other for full effect.
Guitar tones must match lyrics and atmosphere. It’s hard to imagine the commercial success of the Red Hot Chili Peppers without John Frusciante’s dynamic riffs and monumental solos. And if not for Pat Smear’s frantic strumming, the Germs might not have packed as hard of a punch. The rhythm section sets the pace but the guitar creates the mood, whether happiness or dejection.
Among the most moving guitar tones, Eddie Hazel’s guitar work on Funkadelic's 10-minute “Maggot Brain” ranks high, if not highest, in my book. Apparently, before Hazel did the solo, bandleader George Clinton told Hazel to play as if he had just been told his mother had died, and it perfectly reflects the results. After all, the song is a reference to the destruction of Mother Earth.
In the same way that poets develop a voice, guitarist also convey sentiments, although much more visceral and raw, that require a lot of tinkering before perfection. With either an extra chorus pedal or tweaked equalization, guitar tone evolves from album to album and even song to song.
Ultimately, a simple adjustment of a knob might make the difference in bringing someone to tears or not.
Luke Furman is a senior studying journalism at Ohio University. Please note that the views and opinions of the columnists do not reflect those of The Post. Is it electric? Let Luke know by tweeting him @LukeFurmanLog or emailing him at lf491413@ohio.edu.
