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Entrevista con Mark Knopfler

BF = Bill Flanagan, interviewer and writer of the book "Written In My Soul"

MK = Mark Knopfler, lead guitarist and lead singer in Dire Straits

BF: Let's run through some history: Your first album, Dire Straits, released six months later in America than in the rest of the world, was a smash, sold millions of copies. The second album, Communiqué, was already in the can when the first one came out. In America it was often written off as a rehash. During this time the band toured constantly. Then, in early 1980, you pulled the band off the road and made it clear you were calling the shots. You wrote the making Movies album, went to New York that summer to record it, and came back with a stronger sound and a positive attitude. Is any of that wrong?

MK: Not really. Just for the record, Communiqué did sell three million copies. In a lot of countries it did better than the first. Tha hang-up about Communiqué was an American thing. But having said that, I still don't think it was a very good record. Making Movies was closer to what I like to do. On that record I was determined I would not be immobilized by anything. I was going on, to do what I knew I could do. I just kept on working. I decided against being waylaid, to be a survivor instead of casualty. That break gave me the time to consider all that had happened and to express
it in terms of music. Retrospect's a really good thing. Time to think and write it down. Some of those songs were written during a period of turbulence. I wasn't felling good or collected when I wrote "Solid Rock"; I deliberately wrote and recorded that and "Expresso Love" fast. I took more time to record "Romeo and Juliet" because it took more time to write and demanded special attention.

To crystallize: If you can turn negative energy into positive, turn a dire straits situation, excuse the term, into one that is positive, you're not going to go under, you're creating. Like someone who could write a book in prison. The songs are linked in that sense. It wasn't conscious, but I see the Sultans, Les Bouys, the roller skate girl, and Romeo all change disadvantage into advantage. Rather than leave it thay make something with it. I'm not advocating adverse circumstanses, but if they come you have to create from it.

What have you been unable to write about?

Well, I've never felt moved to write about particularly obscene people - I've gotten close, writing about people who are very, very different from me like "Les Boys" [Making Movies]. You take the part of somebody else, you're just not that person. On "The Man's Too Strong" [Brothers in Arms], I tried to do a study in guilt and hatred and fear. On some levels, you can almost see a Hess-like figure, in the depths of Spandau. You might see somebody who's just not at peace with himself. It's always interesting to me that any kind of heavy censorship, like book burnings, has always failed in the long run. That kind of suppression. I was just trying to get in the mind of somebody who's lived his life that way. There's nothing very heavy about it, it's just an experiment in character and playwriting. That song is absolutely not me. It's like Randy Newman talking about being a closet gay truck driver.

I think if I was to sing "Private Dancer," "All the men come in these places," the audience would know it was a character, they'd be able to make that adjustment. It's really a song that a woman should sing, but to my mind, a man should be able to just as easily, and if it's done well, you should be able to make that adjustment. If it's done properly, then part of the fun is to make that jump - it's good for the imagination. I suppose there's nearly always some connection. I mean, look at "Les Boys." We're not gay, but they did cabaret and we do loads of shows. We had done our turn when we saw them and I thought, "God, what's the difference?"

The lead character in "Money for Nothing" is a guy who works in the hardware department in a telvision/custom kitchen/refrigerator/microwave appliance store. He's singing the song. I wrote the song when I was actually in the store. I borrowed a bit of paper and started to write the song down in the store. I wanted to use a lot of the language that the real guy actually used when I heard him, because it was more real. It just went better with the song, it was more muscular. I actually used "little faggot," but there are a couple of good "motherfuckers"in there. I wanted to do a second version that way but I never had time. I'd still love to be able to do it. Even if just the band had it, because it would be the real version. I mean that is the way people speak. I think people still get the general idea. You can use other words that will suggest the general feel.

It also has to do with the context in wich a song's received. If we walk into a hardware store and hear someone say, "Look at that motherfucker" it means nothing to us, but if you hear it in a pop song . . .

If you hear it in New York it means nothing. If you're living in Tallahassee then maybe it's a different thing. There is no way that I would except people to receive all that in the spirit in wich it was intended. They'd probably think I was just being vulgar.

On the first two Dire Straits albums the narrator never spoke to anyone. He was always standing in the background watching the woman on the train, the Chinese merchants, the Sultans of Swing. The third album, Making Movies, still had songs like that, but also had tracks such as "Expresso Love," in wich the singer made direct contact. Do you think of yourself as an outsider? Or do you find it easier to write from that perspective?

"Brothers in Arms" is sung by a soldier who is dying on the battlefield. You can't just write off the top of your head; you have to dig deep to get those things. You have to experience, if a thing is really going to be realistic, if you're gonna try and get whatever you feel across. So, in a sense you're an outsider, but you're also digging inside to do it properly. I don't think you can get away scot-free with these things; otherwise, it's just not going to work. If you stay outside of these experiences, they're just not going to translate to people. That whole area of creation plays all kinds of tricks on the writer. It can fool him into thinking that itäs easier than it really is; it can fool him into thinking that it's harder than it really is; it can fool him into thinking it's working when it's not; it can fool him into thinking it's not working when it is.

You might write something down and not really know. It might seem that there's logic to it, there's a flow to it, there's some kind of reason to it, there was some kind of cause that's coming out in terms of this effect. But the reasons might make themselves more clear to you afterwards. You could be having a fairly clear vision, but there could be some mechanism, wich for a good reason gets in the way of that. Perhaps you're getting more involved in the finer technical points of rhyme. So, it's a weird business, all that.

The thing has to have a whole, harmonic balance. You try to create something that's going to work on a number levels: it's useful, it's functional, it's beautiful, it makes a point, it has its own reality. And it's based always on music you like to play. I'm not saying that everything is a crisis, I'm just saying that everwhere there are choices - at every level of the game. Doing a movie score or making a record there's so many choices, so many possibilities. You talk about being an outsider. Well, you try standing outside while being inside, too. It's important to be able to be outside, dispassionate. You do have to stand back and look at what you're painting. You can't just enter into the depths of this thing and have bits of paint flying all over the place. You have to look at what you're making.

The precision that you bring to your work at every level, and how careful you are of choices, stands in direct contrast to some of the people you've worked with - Bob Dylan and Van Morrison - who do in fact seem to jump in there with the paint flying.

Well, s lot of oaint flies around me as well. It's just that perhaps the thing gets sculpted a bit more.

You're so much the ringleader of your own circus, is it tough for you to join somebody else's? When you're recording with Bob Dylan, is it tough for you to have to defer to him, when you have your own vision of how this record can be perfect?

I don't believe in perfect, I just don't believe that. There's so many ways to do any song, perfection's just a cloud in the air. People say I'm a perfectionist and all of that. It's just not so.

I think it's fair to say that you have great self-confidence.

Well, I have the self-confidence to go gaily steaming off in completely the wrong direction. (Laughs.) Yes, that's the kind of man I am. As far as music goes, it's very easy for things to get way out of hand with me, just because I've got the confidence. "This is the way it is!" I'm very glad that I'm continually outting myself in situations where it's being made absolutely obvious that the directions wich I feel like charging off in aren't the right directions at all.

Did you feel when you were a kid like you'd live in America someday?

Yeah. I think just because of music. It wasn't because of Hollywood. It was because of rock & roll music, more than anything. I've always felt an affinity with America, Americans. It's because America's made up of Everyman - in some ways I feel as though I'm made up of a little bit of Everyman, too. I feel I have things in common with almost anywhere I am. The only time I've felt really, really at odds with all the people around me was when I've been anywhere near a mob. Where there's brute ignorance in a mass of people, like a lynch mob mentality, I always feel very separate. Pictures I've seen in magazines of people getting killed by soldiers or anything like that. I played all the war games as a kid and nobody played them with more intense seriousness than I did, with more enjoyment. I was really into it. I loved to play them. Having grown up, there's something about a mob of people that worries me, that makes me really feel like an outsider. I get as angry as anybody else does when an old lady's beaten up or murdered, I get very mad and start saying, "We've gone soft in the head, we're letting these guys out of jail," and I probably sound a bit reactionary. But I remember once going to a football match when the guys like to fight one another, and I remember feeling so utterly separate from this energy. Maybe they were the kind of kids who were made to feel like they were rejects and this was their time to get rid of that energy, to sream blue murder and maybe get into a fight. That always worried me. I'm used to it because I grew up in Glasgow and Newcastle and got into plenty of fights. I learned how to fight there. But I still fear it terribly. I'm still distressed that there are so many people who see quite content to follow that as a way of life. They're not adverse to standing on a corner with a broken bottle in their hand, waving it in somebody's face. It seems that it's acceptable to them that violence is part of our lives. It's acceptable that Bernhard Goetz can talk about the need for people to walk around with guns. Or that it's perfectly alright to send armies into places to bang, bang, shoot 'em up. Stick a bayonet in his ass. What the hell is that? My grandfathers were probably fightin in the British Army and the German Army. They probably tried to kill each other and if they had, that would have been that. There would be no strumming.

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DO YOU THINK THERE'S an identifiable British sound to Dire Straits?

I don't really think of Dire Straits as a sound, you know. It. just depends on the song, and the stuff we're doing is so varied. I don't think of sounds as being American or English or Japanese or German. That doesn't mean anything; it's all just music. It's either good music or bad music, and good music, to me, is the stuff that's got a bit of soul. The other stuff I'm not really interested in.

For Local Hero, did you reach back for some Celtic influences you heard when you were growing up?

Well, I was born in Scotland and spent the first six years of my life there. Then I went to Newcastle-On-Tyne in northeast England, close to Scotland. So I heard a lot of that music, and of course it's still very strong. In fact, what are the Everly Brothers but that Celtic thing? You can hear the Celtic influence in a lot of country music as well as in people like Gerry Rafferty [of "Baker Street" fame] - that Celtic drone. I had to get even closer still with Cal, which is set in Ireland. For that, I used a fair amount of uillean pipes played by Sean O'Flynn, who's maybe the best exponent of that. Lately, I've become friendly with an Irish singer called Paul Brady, who plays whistle on Cal.

Was rock and roll the first music you ever played?

Yes. I heard my uncle Kingsley playing boogie woogie on the piano when I was about eight or nine, and I thought that those three chords were the most magnificent things in the world - still do. The first records I made my mom buy were Lonnie Donegan skiffle records. That was before I was 10 years old. I had to wait until I was 15 before I got a guitar, because my old man wanted me to appreciate it when I got it. It was a red Hofner V-2, I think they called it. Cost 50 quid. It was Strat-shaped, and it had to be red.

American-made guitars were pretty scarce in England in the early ‘60s.

Yeah. A Strat was a thing of wonder. When I was 14or 15, the Shadows were a big influence, and they had the first Strats that came to England. Cliff Richard brought them back for them. Hank Marvin played lead on a Strat, and Bruce Welch played Tele rhythm.

Were you also influenced by American instrumental bands from the late ‘5Os and early ‘6Os?

Oh, yes. I went up the street to a little pal of mine and made him play me ,,Because They're Young" [by Duane Eddy] 49 times. I could spend the whole day listening to that: the twang. Do you remember the Fireballs? I have one Fireballs single with ,,Quite A Party" on one side and ,,Gunshot" on the other. I played that 4,900 times. Completely and utterly in love with it. Then you'd grow up into Radio Luxembourg, and you'd sit up talking to your older sister. She talks about her boyfriends, and you listen to Ben E. King's ,,Spanish Harlem" or ,,Hey, Baby" by Bruce Channel - stuff like that.

Were you also into rockabilly?

Early Elvis, of course, and one of the biggest of all was the Everly Brothers - with Chet Atkins on guitar; but of course, I didn't know that, and they didn't put their names on records then. But he's probably the greatest of all. Then there was Ricky Nelson - a record called ,,Just A Little Too Much," which doesn't get a lot of exposure-and I didn't know then that that was James Burton on guitar. The sound on those records-just listen to the backing on ,,Hello, Mary Lou" - is astonishingly great. Jerry Lee Lewis was another complete genius.

A lot of English rock guitarists got their start playing ,,trad" razz, Dixieland. Were you involved in that at all?

No, the only thing young kids were really exposed to were the occasional novelty pop singles like ,,Midnight In Moscow" by [trumpeter] Kenny Ball or ,,Stranger On The Shore" by [clarinetist] Acker Bilk. Later on, I got into it some. Everything went in stages. After I'd gotten the solidbody Hofner, I didn't have the nerve to ask my dad for an amplifier - it cost so much - so I had to borrow a friend's acoustic guitar. All the time I wanted to play rock and roll, I got forced into playing sort of folk joints. Of course, that was very good, because I learned how to fingerpick. The first time I heard a 4/4 claw-hammer picking pattern, I fell totally in love with that. So things were progressing on a number of fronts. Later, I got into National steel-body guitars from a guy in Leeds called Steve Phillips, who also builds beautiful guitars. I got involved in all kinds of slide playing and ragtime, country blues, jugband, and even western swing.

When you got into different styles, how studied was your approach?

Not studied at all. I was just trying to absorb the spirit of the thing, rather than take an academic approach. I've never had a guitar lesson. I'm not proud of it particularly, but it's just the way I seem to do it. It's not the best way. I don't recommend it to all your readers.

Considering the enormous impact the Beatles had on American groups, they must have been an even bigger influence on a young musician like yourself growing up in England

Oh, huge! ,,Please, Please Me" was one of the first records that I bought. It's funny now, because while I've been working with Aztec Camera at Ayre Studio [in London], I've been playing Asteroids about every other day with Paul McCartney. It's slightly strange to think, ,,Oh, that's him"[laughs]. But I also liked the Rolling Stones, and I absolutely loved the Kinks. I got into trouble for writing Le Kinks on notebooks and desks in school. I loved songs like ,,Where Have All the Good Times Gone," ,,Waterloo Sunset, and ,,You Really Got Me." I enjoyed that period, and then a few years later, when I was 18or 19, I got into a lot of the American bands, like the Doors, and some of the English bands that didn't necessarily make it as big, such as Head, Hands & Feet [with Albert Lee]. I never really got into deep record collecting, because I was always moving around and was too impoverished.

When did you get into R&B guitar players?

When I was listening to Elvis and the Everlys, I suppose. Then shortly before Dire Straits, I was playing a Gibson Les Paul Special in a rockabilly / R&B band in London. When I heard B.B. King, at age 16, that was another big turning point, because I was really struck with the relationship between the guitar and the voice and the whole bending thing, the way it sounded. Later, when I was 20 or 21, I remember hearing Lonnie Johnson with Eddie Lang - the Blue Guitars album [EMI, PCM 7019]. Then I realized that there was a connection, and I read an interview with B.B. King saying that Lonnie Johnson had been a big influence on him. It's great to make these little connections and see how they do line up.

Bob Dylan is probably the most obvious influence on your singing and writing.

I was hugely influenced by him about the age of 14 or 15, going ‘round to girls' houses, drinking 75 cups of coffee, smoking 90 cigarettes, and listening to Blonde On Blonde [Columbia, CS2-841] 120 times. I heard Bob Dylan from the very beginning, the ,,Hard Rain" days, and went with him all the way up, and I'm still with him. I still think he's great. Blood On The Tracks [Columbia, HC-43235] is one of my favorite records, with ,,Tangled Up In Blue." On the last record [Infidels], to hear the first lines of "I And I," that's enough to make anybody who writes songs want to retire. It's stunning. Bob's musical ability is limited, in terms of being able to play a guitar or a piano. It's rudimentary, but it doesn't affect his variety, his sense of melody, his singing. It's all there. In fact, some of the things he plays on piano while he's singing are lovely, even though they're rudimentary. That all demonstrates the fact that you don't have to be a great technician. It's the same old story: If something is played with soul, that's what's important. My favorite records, by and large, aren't wonderful technical achievements, with the exception perhaps of people like Chet Atkins. But generally speaking, all you've got to do is listen to a Howlin' Wolf album - that's just soul.

Along with the impact Dylan had on you, were you also influenced much by the Band, in particular Robbie Robertson's guitar playing?

No, I don't think so. Not really.

Were there any specific guitar influences that made your style take the form it did?

I don't know.

Some of your playing is reminiscent of J.J. Cale's.

Oh, of course, yeah. I listened to a lot of J.J. Cale around the time my style was developing. He's great. I'd love to meet him. He's very, very special to me.

Another guitarist to whom you bear a remarkable similarity is Richard Thompson.

Well, I haven't really heard much of Richard Thompson's stuff. I saw him play live years ago with his then-wife [Linda Thompson] and enjoyed it very much. But I've only listened to one of his records.Around the time Dire Straits was starting, we were all in this house, and John [Illsley] hadone of his records. I haven't really kept up with him, but I mean to do something about that. We've both done folk music and things, so there's probably quite a lot of common ground. I think I was probably more into the blues, while he was doing Fairport Convention.

But like Thompson, you don’t at all resemble the stereotypical blues-based lead guitarist rattling off pentatonic licks.

You mean down-da-da-da, down-da-da-da, down-da-da-da? Have you heard that Pretenders single [,,Middle Of The Road," Learning To Crawl, Sire, 1-23980]? Right, I don't do that [laughs].

On Slow Train Coming, on the other hand, you didn‘t play the sorts of things you‘re known for with Dire Straits. It’s very bluesy, a la Albert King.

I was asked to do that. [Producer] Jerry Wexler said, ,,Try for a gut-bucket style of thing." So I borrowed a Gibson ES-335 that somebody down there had, and off we went.

On Infidels, whose idea was it to have Mick Taylor on guitar?

Bob decided on the whole band, although I did suggest that Alan [Clarke] be there, because we'd been in the room doing Local Hero and had sort of a working thing going on there. And I suggested the engineer, Neill Dorfsman, who did Love Over Gold and Local Hero. We were like a three-man team at that point. Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare [reggae's top studio drummer and bassist, respectively] were Bob's ideas, as well as Mick Taylor. I suggested Billy Gibbons, but I don't think Bob had heard of ZZ Top. It would have been great to have done that with Billy. My roughs are different from the final record. Bob mixed it, because I had to go on tour in Germany with Dire Straits. I think he changed some things. I've only heard the album once.

Was it difficult producing Dylan?

Yeah. You see people working in different ways, and it's good for you. You have to learn to adapt to the way different people work. Yes, it was strange at times with Bob. One of the great parts about production is that it demonstrates to you that you have to be flexible. Each song has its own secret that's different from another song, and each has its own life. Sometimes it has to be teased out, whereas other times it might come fast. There are no laws about songwriting or producing. It depends on what you're doing, not just who you're doing. You have to be sensitive and flexible, and it's fun. I'd say I was more disciplined. But I think Bob is much more disciplined as a writer of lyrics, as a poet. He's an absolute genius. As a singer - absolute genius. But musically, I think it’s a lot more basic. The music just tends to be a vehicle for that poetry.

When you're playing on someone else's record, what sort of directions do you usually get from the artist or the producer?

In 99% of the cases, almost none. It’s always very nice.

What do you want to know about the song you’re playing on?

I want to know what the lyric is, what the song is about. I like to talk to the lyric to a certain extent. That's important to me. What was funny and kind of nice about doing Bryan Ferry's stuff is that Bryan works backwards from the way I work. He creates these very nice sounding, very simple grooves, and they seem to instigate the lyric. The lyrics come last which is great, just fine. But, you know, I would say to Bryan, ,,What do you think this is going to be about? A dragonfly. Oh." And that can create tension or whatever, too.

Do you usually get called to do a session because someone is after your specific sound?

It varies. It's usually all-around guitar playing. A lot of the things that I do on session don't relate to the Dire Straits sound, if there is such a thing. I might be just playing my Gibson Chet Atkins solidbody classical or a National, maybe just doing a part or something.

You don’t feel as though you’ve been stereotyped for your identifiable sound and lead approach?

To me, that's never seemed to be limiting in terms of sessions. I like to play a lot of different styles of things on sessions. On Tina Turner's new album, she recorded a song I wrote called ,,Private Dancer," and she got the whole Dire Straits band to play on it, but I was busy doing the Bryan Ferry sessions. So she got Jeff Beck to play the second ugliest guitar solo you've ever heard on it.

What are the advantages and disadvantages to doing sessions or working on film scores as opposed to playing in a band?

Oh, it's all just advantages. It all makes you bigger. It's a challenge. I look at something like Cal where I did all the music cues, and I didn't think I could do it at first. But I just started at the beginning and staggered through it from one piece to the next until it was finished. It's a finely-tuned film, and the slightest thing you add or subtract really affects what's going on. It's very exacting. There are a lot of decisions to be made. It's part of a picture, but at the same time you want the music to stand up on its own. I don't like soundtrack albums that have one song and the rest is all filler.

On a film score, do you work along with the director?

Yes. For instance, with Cal, I made sure that Pat O'Connor, the director, was in the studio almost every day. I'd just drag him in there. That's another reason I like film work: You're trying to do something for somebody else, and you're cooperating. It's less selfish in a way than this egomaniac thing of Singer/ Songwriter Does Own Record. It's nice to be a part of a bigger thing.

Do you think you’d ever put out a solo album not connected with a film or with Dire Straits?

I feel that with the band there's enough for all that expression. But I would like to make some little records for different kinds of things - maybe built around the guitar or whatever. And I love to do sessions. I get enough to do without feeling frustrated about not doing solo records. The film stuff gives me an Opportunity to do all that. To have musicians like [saxophonist] Mike Brecker and [vibist] Mike Mainieri or [bassist] Tony Levin play on your music is wonderful. Words can't express it.

Apart from sessions and Dire Straits, do you get a chance to sit in with other musicians on a regular basis?

A little bit, but not as much as I'd like to. But that's just because of the demands of the cycle of events of the group, the production stuff, and the films. I love to play with other people. I think musicians should and, generally speaking, do intermingle a lot. I'm totally in favor of that. I've got a little project in the back of me mind that Mike Mainieri has been asking me about. We sort of talked about putting some people together and making music. It's all just a question of time. I'd love to have 60-hour days.

Has your composing for Dire Straits been influenced much by movie soundtracks? A lot of your songs have a feel somewhat like The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly.

Yes, that's Ennio Morricone. He's done The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly, Fistful Of Dollars things like 1900. Yes, he's a big influence.

Do you have any particularly strong literary influences in your songwriting?

Lots and lots. That was my subject at university, and I taught English for a while. There's too many to name: Shakespeare, a lot of American writers, such as Raymond Chandler, metaphysical poets.

Do you find that certain keys or chord progressions give pieces a more majestic quality?

Yeah, I like certain keys more and more. I've been doing a lot of stuff in F and D minor. ,,Down To The Waterline" [Dire Straits] is B minor, which is a nice key as well.

Is that the Ennio Morricone influence coming through?

Probably, yes. That slightly comic, melodramatic thing. I call it ,,spaghetti music. ,, Things like ,,Private Investigations" [Love Over Gold] are almost tongue-in-cheek deliberately exaggerated.

Your guitar playing seems fairly delicate, yet there are a lot of dynamics, a lot of driving rhythms in your music.

Thank you. I like arranging other people's instruments, and working with the way verses go into choruses. I like dynamics and things to be a little bit dramatic. I work with every aspect of the whole thing: the bass, the piano, when a bass drum is hit, every highhat beat. Certain pieces just go, but with other pieces I like to get into everything that goes on.

On a studio album, how much overdubbing do you do?

We end up keeping quite a lot of the live takes, actually. Love Over Gold was a heavily worked on record. Too much attention was paid to that, I think, in a lot of respects. But it was interesting to have done it that way. I don't think I'd like to do another record that was so heavily produced, though.

Do you eve play rhythm guitar yourself?

Oh, I love to. I like to have two rhythm guitars on most pieces anyway.

Do you also instruct or direct the other rhythm guitarist’s part?

Pretty much, usually. The bass and drums as well.

So you write the arrangement as well as the song itself?

Pretty much, but people always bring their own little bits and pieces to it. Sometimes they bring the entire thing, and that's even greater. Every musician will come up with things that only he could come up with, and I like to use those things. Hal [Lindes] often comes up with different voicings than I would have had in mind.

Does that change the mood of the song?

It can, yes.

You have a very vocal-like guitar style, but it’s not at all like the B. B. King style you mentioned earlier.

Part of the difference, I suppose, would be chucking away the pick when I was evolving my own style. Style, I find, is always impossible to define, but it's easy to recognize.

What made you start playing lead with your bare fingers?

It just started to happen. I remember sitting in a house in London - starving to death at the time - playing a cheap Japanese acoustic with really light electric guitar strings on it. I knew then that it was on a turn, it was developing. I was doing things with my fingers that I couldn't do with a pick-really fast things and what have you. I still love to play with a pick, and sometimes you have to record certain parts or songs with a pick - for instance, ,,Expresso Love" [Making Movies]. But it's interesting that now I'm not nearly as comfortable with a pick as I am with my fingers.

Did you go through different stages of developing techniques and experimenting with fingerpicks?

Yes. I went through thumbpicks and even steel fingerpicks with the Nationals, and I dispensed with them. It's a bit of a disadvantage without them sometimes, because a thumbpick is just great for that chunk thing that Chet Atkins can do so brilliantly.

What does your picking technique consist of now?

It's the thumb and first two fingers, and I tend to anchor with the back or my hand and my other two fingers, so it's a solid base.

Do you pick with your fingernails or with the meat of your fingertips?

It's really from skin, but sometimes the nail will catch. You can use the nail to snap it. A lot of times, I’ll hit a note with the thumb and second finger together, so it might seem as though I'm pinching the string, squeezing it. The second finger hits it first I think, behind the thumb, so you can get a real physicality with a note.

Is your tone a product of the type of guitar you play, or is it a result of your picking technique?

I think it's a combination. I like to play all kinds of guitars, not just Strats, but I wasn't getting the sound I really wanted until I got a Stratocaster. It was about a 61 with a rosewood neck. I like rosewood necks a lot, even though I end up playing a lot of maple necks. I very rarely use a Fender Strat these days; it's usually a Schecter instead, which is a more powerful guitar.

Your old Fender Strat used to have the 3-way toggle switch taped so that it would stop in the position between the middle and rear pickups. why didn't you just get a 5-position switch to achieve the same pickup combination?

I liked the 3-way switch better than the 5-position; it had a better sound. But I kept knocking it out. I have a 5-position switch on the Strat now. The roadies are always pulling bits out and sticking things in.

Why did you switch from your Fender to a Strat-style Schecter?

I didn't want to keep flogging a Strat around the world, getting it smashed

pieces. Same thing with my beautiful Telecaster that David [Knopfler] used to play rhythm on in the band. It's a double-bound sunburst Custom Tele, about a ’67 or ‘68, and I'm not inclined to have it smashed to bits. The Schecter is beautifully made and very strong.

Does it weigh a lot more than the Fender?

Yeah, the Schecters do tend to weigh a lot more. Probably the best electric I ever had was a Schecter that I used on Making Movies, but it was stolen. John Suhr, at Rudy's Music Stop in New York City, has worked on all my guitars, and so does Jack Sonni from the same shop. I got John to come to the studio all the way through the Dylan sessions [for Infidels], just to work on all the guitars. He screens different pickups and installs them. John does the best work I've ever seen - brilliant fretjobs and what have you.

Are your guitars heavily modified?

Not really. One Schecter has Seymour Duncan Vintage pickups, and another red one has heavier Seymour Strat pickups in it.

Have you amassed a very sizable instrument collection?

No, I haven't. For instance, I still haven't got a flat-top wooden acoustic, because I've never found one that was as good as the two best flat tops I ever played. One was a David Russell Young guitar that Steve Khan lent me, which was absolutely stunning. The other was a hand-built Greco that Rudy [Pensa, of Rudy's Music Stop] lent me. I used the David Russell Young on Love Over Gold, and the Greco on Infidels. When I got my Ovation Adamases, I started using them straight away on Slow Train Coming and Local Hero. For the Aztec Camera thing, I borrowed a couple of old Martins from Eric Clapton, because they'd been using Ovations, and you just can't get the personality out of them. They've also been using my new red Schecter Tele [see cover], which is one of the best sounding electric guitars I've ever had.

So on Dire Straits albums you play borrowed acoustics?

I have some Ovations, but no wooden flat-tops. Hal has a Martin, and my Adamas guitars-a 6- and a 12-string have seen quite a bit of recording. One of my favorite guitars is the Gibson Chet Atkins solidbody classical, which has been on a lot of sessions since I got it. It's a beautifully made thing. I use it onstage, too, because you can get really loud with the thing. The action is low, so it tries to get the best of both worlds. By and large, I think it succeeds. It's a lot of fun to play. I used it on the Bryan Ferry sessions [as yet unreleased], some sessions with Phil Everly, and on the film scores I just did.

When you record with an Ovation, do you play it through an amp?

It sounds great direct. I might have an amp out in the studio with a microphone on it, too. On Local Hero, we sent the Adamas direct quite a lot.

Do you ever work out solos ahead of time on a session?

No, not really. Sometimes it might break down in the middle, and then you figure out which way it should go, and punch it in. Hut generally speaking, it's pretty rough-and-ready. I'll often play three passes, record them all, and then make something by stitching them together.

You usually stay pretty close to the song's melody or play a countermelody, instead of working off licks and patterns.

Well, it doesn't go down-da-da-da, down-da-da-da [laughs].

Judging by the live album, you’ve recently begun taking more extended solos.

I started writing other sections for songs like ,,In The West," instead of that sort of skeletal Communiqué approach. With the keyboards coming into the band, I started writing new sections and was inspired to build things up a bit, trying to get the full possibilities of the song out, instead of the more linear approach that marked the earlier sound of Dire Straits.

Why did you decide to come out with live a LP at this point?

Several reasons. I wanted to have a record of the band at that certain stage. Second, we played to about three-quarters of a million people on the last tour, and a lot of them found their way into our dressing room. One of the major things the fans would ask for was a live record. Also, I wanted to see if we could do a genuine live album without tampering with the multitrack in any way - which we managed to do.

On most supposedly live albums, they’ve overdubbed.

Everything. I got to play an awful lot of pool during that record, because the engineer was doing a lot of the mixing, so I was just upstairs playing pool. It wasn't very taxing.

Why did Dire Straits put out a four-song EP after Love Over Gold, rather than a complete album?

Well, the EP was actually a reaction against the album. After doing something where you spend a lot of care-and doing ,,Private Investigations" about 20,000 times - then all you want to do, basically, is play ,,Bebop-A-Lula."

Do you vary your amps and settings much in the studio?

We just take potluck and go. For stage, I have two amps set up for different things. They're Boogies with Marshall cabinets. One's set lower, and I put the National through that, and you have to graphic [EQ] pretty heavily for that onstage. It's a metal-body with palm trees and canoes on it [a l4 fret Style 0 from the 1930s].

What about effects? There's an interesting fast echo on ,,Waterline" [Dire Straits].

I have no idea what that was. Rhett Davies was the engineer on that record, and he's in love with Roland Chorus Ensembles, so it might well have been that. I actually use a Roland onstage. Most of my effects are echoes. I have a Delta Lab that I like very much, too.

Do you prefer a certain brand and gauge of strings?

They're called Dean Markley Custom Lights. I'd have to check the gauges [high to low, .009, 011, 015, 026, 036, 046]

Is there a pattern to your creative process when you write a song?

No, there's no formula, no law. I'm lazy [laughs]. One song might come quickly, and another might take hundreds of hours over a long period of time with varying amounts of inebriation.

What's the most inebriated song you ever wrote?

,,Once Upon A Time In The West" [Communiqué] was one of them. I was watching the film on TV in a slightly altered state.

Do you use a multitrack cassette recorder to keep track of ideas and come up with arrangements?

No, I should. I don't even use a tape recorder. I just write things down in a book. A lot of ideas come around, and I've forgotten them in the morning. Sometimes I figure, ,,Well, if I wake up and can still remember it, then it's worth remembering."

Do you just jam on guitar to come up with melodies and changes?

Yes, for hours and hours. And then for more hours. I can play by myself quite happily for days. Sometimes I sit down at the piano and hit the keys, make shapes, but I’m not what you'd call a player. I'm not what I'd call a proper musician on the guitar. I feel as though I'm a student who's not going to school. I've been working from the Mickey Baker book [Jazz And Hot Guitar, Book I] to get some extra chords. I love to learn a new chord and find out what it means, and use it in what I write. I'm developing slowly that way.

Have the outside projects made it difficult to keep to a schedule with Dire Straits?

Dire Straits' schedule is dictated partly by whether or not I've written any songs, and also by how many other things I want to do. If I did all the things I get asked to do, then there would be no time for Dire Straits at all. So to a certain extent, it does affect the band. The band would probably be working much more if I weren't doing anything else. But then life would be extremely dull and tedious, wouldn't it?

Is there anything else you'd like to add?

Just this [picking up his red Schecter]: down-da-da-da, down-da-da-da, down-da-da-da...

---

On earlier records you played slide on your National. Did you use an open tuning on, say ,,Water Of Love"?

Yeah. G tuning-D, G, D, G, B, D - capoed somewhere. I could always do a lot more with it than with the E tuning.

On which finger do you wear your slide?

A hundred years ago, I started with the third - doing Elmore James, straight off, no problem. It just felt more comfortable. When I realized I needed more fingers to do other things, the slide went on the little finger.

Have you always had an affinity for country blues?

Yeah. I didn't actually study it the way I studied literature at the university. I was never a Stefan Grossman aficionado or anything, because I always rejected the academic approach to country blues. I’d listen, not necessarily to imitate the music, but to get off on lt. If you stay too stuck in something old, you just end up being a guy with leather elbow pads on his sport jacket who turns up with a National guitar and plays these academically correct country blues tunes, imitations of Gary Davis or something. So what? Enjoy the music, get the attitude and spirit out of it, and move on. It's not about making a religion of these people. Don't build a shrine.

Do you remember a particular moment when you discovered what the world would later call the ,,Knopfler sound"?

Yeah, I suppose so. I was sleeping on the floor in somebody's apartment. They had a cheap imitation of a Gibson Dove acoustic with unbelievably light strings. It was like playing an electric guitar, but there was a little bit of sound to it. You couldn't really strum or bash it, so I had to fingerpick. As I was flying around this guitar, I realized I was doing things with my fingers that I could do with a pick and also some other things that I wouldn’t be able to do with a pick. Playing with your fingers has something to do with immediacy and soul. You are absolutely in touch with what is going on. And that can lead to other things too. On the electric, I developed the sound a bit further with a volume pedal.

Really? Most would assume you were manipulating your Strat’s volume knob to get that crying sound.

Just a simple Ernie Ball pedal. It gives you more of a speaking voice, something that approximates a steel guitar. I always wanted that. I can’t sing, so the guitar becomes a voice in many ways. You are not looking at Bonnie Raitt here.

Are you trying to minimize attack?

That’s more like a voice coming in, isn’t it? But sometimes I’ll make a meal of the attack: With my thumb and fingers I’ll do a little flurry – pa-ta-dam. I’m just interested in attack as lack of attack.

How exactly do you create that flurry? Do you snag the strings with your index finger and then follow through with your thumb?

Well, yes, it’s the same as the boogie rhythm. In other words, the fingers do a pickup before the downbeat. The downbeat is with the thumb. This applies to rhythm playing – which is my greates joy – as well as solo playing. You anticipate the downbeat with a pickup, a brush from either on or two fingers. A flamenco guitarist will swirl the fingers an then – wham – hit the downbeat. It’s a cheapened, mediocre version of that.

How does one develop a signature voice?

It’s not going to happen by buying a videocassette tape that shows you how to play like some guy in a heavy metal band. You'd be much better off listening to Howlin' Wolf and then taking it nice and slow from there.

You're exploring new sounds. For example, "On Euery Street" has a twangy line that

sounds flatpicked.

Yeah, I used a pick for that. I played an old [Gibson] Super 400 with Alnico pickups through a [Fender] Vibrolux with the tremolo on. That's genre. You've got to love all that crap, haven't you? [Laughs]

In a big way. How do you get that warm, throaty lead tone in "You And Your Friend"?

My Les Paul has a little alteration [see Love Over Gear]. You can pull a pot up and get a slightly out-of-phase sound. Then you just back one of the levels down a little bit to where it becomes this voice. I tried to get that on ,,Brothers In Arms" but it didn't please [engineer] Neil Dorfsman at the time we were doing it. I always liked that sound; with a Les Paul it's a beautiful thing.

What acoustic did you use on ,Iron Hand"?

That was an old [Gibson] J-45. I just sang and played. I wasn't feeling too well.

How about that low-key, smoky tone in "Fade To Black"?

The Super 400 again. Those Alnicos are great. If Gibson could find a way to make those pickups once more, they should.

It's a real jazz/blues mood - shades of Django or Kenny Burrell.

Originally it was a Rolling Stones kind of thing. That wasn't making me happy, so I changed the chords right around and put the Super 400 on. Everybody just played, and I sang and played. We never changed the vocal, the guitar, anything. That's an untouched recording.

Wow. These days, that's pretty radical.

You're not going to get recordings that capture the spirit of the moment [snaps fingers] unless you've got confidence, knowledge, and belief. It's important to have people on your side, a band who can follow what's going on. They don't have to be the world's greatest players, but if you're going to embark on a recording like that, I would heartily suggest that you get a great drummer. One of the reasons why I loved making this album so much was because of [drummer] Jeff Porcaro. He's an artist.

Did you cut many tracks live?

,,Iron Hand," ,,Fade To Black," ,,Calling Elvis" - there's a bunch of stuff on this record that just happened. Everybody is just playing. Who's recording like that now? It's not an engineer's dream, but more people should record live if they can.

You're not afraid to mix styles.

Even on the straight things - a song like ,,How Long," for instance - I like to put something in that they wouldn't allow on country radio. A heavy distorted, very, very loud guitar on a country song: Rock and roll won't play it, country won't play it, but that's the music I really like. That's where I'm at. I like working around that delicious place where country meets blues, playing with the third or the absence of the third. It's a highly stimulating pre-orgasmic area [grins].

Do you have a home studio?

Yeah, in London. I don't know if it passes for a real studio. I did a Notting Hillbillies record [Missing. .. Presumed Having A Good Time and most of the Chet record [Neck And Neck] there. You've got to be quite careful - the door doesn't close. You can hear motorcycles and builders and stuff.

When you're off the road and not working on an album or a film score, do you ever practice?

Well, songwriting becomes practicing becomes songwriting becomes practicing.

But I hear an evolution in your playing. More chromatic notes. Diminished runs.

You pick up licks here and there to increase your vocabulary.

So you advocate a less structured, more oblique approach to learning?

I say strange things that most teachers would never say. Watch television with the sound off and play something. Fall asleep while playing.

Do you do that much?

Oh yeah, ever since the beginning. I'll fall asleep playing and my fingers will just be flying about.

Describe your songwriting process.

I write everything on an acoustic. I usually don't have an electric at home. I'm dead lazy and I'm no good with tape recorders or anything, so I just stick some words down in a notebook and try to remember the music.

Got any writing tips?

On this last little break during the tour, I had a capo on the 3rd fret of my acoustic; it changed everything completely I was writing different stuff and an awful lot of stuff because of this change. So if you're in a rut, you might want to change your format. For instance, I originally wrote ,,Sultans Of Swing" on my National steel guitar, open tuned. Same lyrics, but a different tune. Since I can't remember it, it was completely unremarkable [laughs].When I got the Strat and plugged into an old Vibrolux, it became something else.

So new tools can breed new ideas.

Yeah. Sometimes a change is as good as a rest Tune your guitar to a chord and you'll write something different. Stick a capo on it, you might write something else.

Ever try fingerpicks?

I dispensed with thumbpicks and fingerpicks a long time ago. A fingerpick doesn't give you a down blast if you want one. And the thumbpick separates your thumb from your fingers. Chet uses a thumbpick, so his bass is always clearer and much louder than mine. And he cultivates his nails, so he gets more level all round. You learn these things: Falling asleep on holiday on this last break, I discovered that the [third and fourth finger] anchor I use actually mutes the acoustic.

Are you practicing now without it?

Yeah, I'm playing more fingers off. Anchors aweigh! With an acoustic it sounds so much better This is elementary stuff, but it took me 20 years to find out.

Do you see any drawbacks to playing fingerstyle?

Because I'm playing with my fingers, I need good amplification. The best amplifiers are picks. As soon as you lose the pick, you lose a lot of level. It changes the tone and, in terms of genre, it changes the legitimacy of what you do. So if I'm playing a straight blues or something with my fingers on an electric guitar, I have to think slightly differently. On something like ,,Love You Too Much," I might have to work a little bit harder to be legit, whereas if I used a pick it would be fine. But I could never keep picks anyway, so I just play the way I do and dial up the right sound on the Soldano amp.

What other acoustics do you own?

I recently bought a Taylor that I like a lot. My favorite acoustics are made by [Notting Hillbillies member] Steve Phillips. I have two. They're the best I've ever played. He only made a few; unfortunately, one was destroyed. He tried to approximate a ‘30s Martin, basically

Where do you find inspiration?

Listening to old music is great. You have to know old stuff - get right back into it, know it, feel it. It's no good these heavy metal bands putting slides on their fingers and picking up Nationals and pretending they know how to do that stuff as part of their shtick. It's just woeful. Having said that, I'm very critical of myself because I don't practice electric, which I should really do. I still get myself in knots with the band, and I'll stand there and think, ,,What the hell am I going to do now?" But that's part of the fun of playing live. And I do intend to practice; I should and I will.

What constitutes "old music"?

If you think going back means Led Zeppelin, have another think! You have to start with American music in the ,20s. It would help if you knew about Irish and Celtic music as well. American music is essentially a nuclear fusion of blues and country. That's what the whole thing's about. Nothing else matters. You have to know the history of it, which doesn't involve listening to Otis Rush just once. It doesn't involve listening to Speckled Redonce. It doesn't involve listening to Gid Tanner And The Skillet Lickers once. It doesn't involve listening to Bob Wills once. It's extremely foolish to have all these music schools create opportunities for talented kids to learn how to do technical things unbelievably well, when they don't understand where the hell it's coming from. Lots of people play music and don’t really hear it, which brings us to the subject of musical musicians and unmusical musicians. There are many impressive players who are far more technically adept than I am, for instance, but they're not hearing it, they're just doing it. Sticking stuff in the right boxes, depending on what the progression is.

So what's the antidote?

Be concerned with the soul quotient of your music, the sheer joy of being in the heart of something. And don't be concerned about the marketplace. The music business is something that's completely and utterly separate from music. Don't think about singles. Just do what the hell you really want to do. Learn to hear music, so whatever is going on, you find a way to help it. Finding Parts is a musical musician's speciality: Parts are what make great records - not producers. It's not a question of what you know. It all comes down to this: What are you prepared to give of yourself?

http://victorian.fortunecity.com/stanmer/288/intervw/interv.htm

David Gilmour: The Delicate Sound Of Thunder

By Barry Cleveland

It is a nearly inexcusable cliché to state that the sound of this or that musician is “immediately recognizable.” But in the case of David Gilmour, the transgression is nonetheless justified. The four-note arpeggio transitioning out of the opening drone on “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” the searing and frenzied slide work throughout “One of These Days,” the Uni-Vibed chords on “Breathe In the Air,” the choppy wah stabs and screaming solo lines on “Money,” the harmonized Tele melodies on “Dogs,” the spanky chording on “Another Brick In the Wall (Part 2),” and the majestic solo on “Comfortably Numb”—all these iconic notes and tones evidence Gilmour’s singular touch faster than you can say “Ummagumma.”

Since joining Pink Floyd at age 21 in 1967, Gilmour has continually avoided even the proverbial path less traveled, opting instead to craft a style that reaches for the galactic core while remaining rooted in the earthiest blues. Whether it be sitting amidst the empty ruins of Pompeii coaxing clusters of cosmic sound from a handful of pedals and a Binson Echorec in 1971, or standing in front of an elaborate assemblage of amps and effects processors playing “A Great Day for Freedom” to an audience of 50,000 in the Gdansk shipyards in 2006, Gilmour has remained true to his original trajectory.

Gilmour’s latest release, Live in Gdansk [Columbia], spotlights material from his most recent solo album, On an Island, supported by the Baltic Philharmonic Orchestra. Also included are live versions of Pink Floyd classics such as “Astronomy Domine,” “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” “Comfortably Numb,” and “Echoes.” Formats range from a 2-CD set to a 3-CD/ 2-DVD Deluxe Box to a 5-LP Box.

Recent months have also seen the introduction of two Fender David Gilmour Signature Series Stratocasters, an updated version of Phil Taylor’s Pink Floyd: The Black Strat, A History of David Gilmour’s Black Fender Stratocaster, and two sets of GHS David Gilmour Signature strings.

You are generally thought of as a “Strat guy,” but you play quite a few different guitars—even in the live show. Can you describe a few of your favorites, and what it is about those particular instruments that you like?
The Stratocaster obviously has to take first place. That was the guitar I always wanted when I was a kid—mostly because Hank Marvin had one. I just loved the Strat, but I couldn’t afford one, so I played other guitars. The one I played most often while I was in bands in my hometown was a Hofner Club 60, which was a very nice little guitar. Then, when I was 21, my parents—who lived in New York at the time—bought me a Telecaster, which was the first actual Fender I owned. It was lovely, but I still lusted after a Strat, so I got one as soon as I could afford it. The Stratocaster is the most versatile guitar ever made, and it has this funny way of making you sound like yourself. In my view, you can recognize guitar players who play a Strat more readily than you can those who play Gibsons, and that’s an opinion I’ve held for some time. Having said that, it’s very nice to play something else occasionally, like my goldtop Les Paul with those old singlecoil P-90s.

Does it have Les Paul’s original trapeze bridge or a stop tailpiece?
It has a stop tailpiece. For the last album, I wanted one with a Bigsby vibrato, but I didn’t want to change the old one I’d used to play, for example, the solo on “Another Brick In the Wall Part 2,” so I found another one. I suppose you could say that they are a little raunchier than Fenders.

You also play a Gretsch?
I’ve got an old black Duo Jet I’ve had for a very long time. I actually used it on a couple of tracks on my first solo album in 1978. It’s quite hard to play, but it’s a real beauty, and it’s a beautiful-sounding instrument that fits perfectly for some things. I played it on “Where We Start.”

You’ve played Telecasters on a lot of songs, too, like the solo on “Dogs.”
Yes, that’s right. I think it was done using the neck pickup, which I changed to a Strat pickup, because the Tele neck pickups never seem to be quite up to the job. I did use a Tele on the new album, as well. It was the main guitar on “Take a Breath.”

How about the banjo-like guitar?
That’s a Turkish cümbüsh, which is basically a fretless 12-string banjo. It’s a pretty weird instrument that I bought in Turkey years ago. It is tuned very much like a guitar, and mine is actually tuned exactly like a guitar. I like to be able to pick up any instrument and coax something out of it.

Is their anything about your current live rig that’s particularly interesting?
My tech, Phil Taylor, is always making improvements, trying to make the amps sound better by putting in higher quality this and that, using cryogenically frozen guitar cords—all these sorts of things I hope make it sound better. The rig sounds great to me, but I can just plug in and go with almost anything. I used to be much more fanatical about it when I was younger. I built all of my first pedalboards myself. It was my idea to have all the pedals on all the time, with each of them on a bypass switch, so that the signal didn’t go through the electronics of any pedals that weren’t being used. Then, when Pete Cornish began building boards for me, I asked him to follow that general design. But all the stuff has been way out of my hands for years. If I hear an amp that sounds particularly good, it’s usually one that Phil has brought to me and said, “Try this out.”

Having used everything from a Fuzz Face into a Hiwatt, to a Boss Heavy Metal pedal into a Boogie into a Fender, you still wind up sounding like yourself.
Well, this is what I’ve found, too [laughs].

How do you account for that?
The sound you wind up with is the sound that is as close to the sound you hear in your head as you can get. And then it is the notes you choose to play, and how you play them, and that is entirely down to your own personal taste. One is constantly striving to get closer to this magical, perfect sound that is in one’s head.

The Binson Echorec was once a huge part of your sound. Do you still have any of these, and if so, do you ever use them?
I don’t use them very much anymore, although there are some things that only a Binson will do. I used to be expert with Binsons. I was able to dismantle them, put them back together, and change the head positioning. In fact, there was a time when Pink Floyd’s original road manager, Peter Watts, and I were the only two people who could actually maintain a Binson. But they are so noisy, and I guess all the ones we’ve got are so old that it is impossible to keep them noise free. I have managed to nearly replicate what a Binson will do using a combination of modern digital units.

To get the multi-head sounds?
The multi-head sounds, as well as the Swell setting—which is what I use on the beginning of “Time,” for example.

Which combination of delay settings do you use to replicate the Swell effect?
To be honest, I don’t really know—or care—that much about these things, and I’m not exactly certain what I do use some of the time. I’ve said it before, but I’ll repeat it: I could go into any music shop in any city, get exactly what I need, turn it on, and it would be great. I think it’s a pity if people rely on the individual units too much. I do know that I don’t use the Big Muff or the Fuzz Face as much anymore. I currently have two BK Butler Tube Drivers on my pedalboard, and I just use one or the other. If I need a little something more, I’ll stomp a compressor with a bit of drive onto the beginning of it, and that will turn things up another whole gear.

Do you recall how you got the lead tone on the live version of “Echoes”?
That probably is a Big Muff. I’ve got a pedalboard that switches to a north track or a south track, and there are Big Muff-type distortions and Tube Driver distortions. It’s a very simple, but effective way of getting more stuff onto a board. Sometimes, I’ll stomp one unit in, and it won’t sound quite right, so, in the middle, I’ll stomp over to the other one to see if that suits the room better.

How about the bird-like wailing sounds on “Echoes”?
That is an oscillation created by having a wah pedal plugged in the wrong way around, and it has nothing to do with the strings. The noise it makes is unbelievably loud and horrible, so you have to have a volume pedal after it, and then a delay, and you have to turn the volume pedal way down. You put your heel all the way down on the wah, and then those noises come out when you manipulate the volume and tone controls on the guitar. We discovered it as the result of a serendipitous accident that happened in about 1969 or 1970, when a roadie had plugged the wah in the wrong way, and I stomped into it and got this incredible screaming noise. But, you know what they say—waste not, want not.

You use a Whammy pedal in an unusual way on “The Blue.”
I have it set to cover an octave, and I’m basically just whizzing up and down nice and gently in a way that has a sort of watery feel to it. I’m also using the whammy bar a little bit, but the Whammy pedal is doing most of the work. I first discovered that sound while recording “Marooned” on The Division Bell.

Some of your lead tones over the years have been right on the edge of feedback. To what extent do you think of feedback as part of your expressive aesthetic?
It makes life easier. Maybe there’s a reckless side to my nature that likes to be only half in control of what’s going on, and I like being dragged along by the feedback, rather than really having to push the notes out all the time. I try to find the exact right spot on the stage, and the exact right level, and the exact right amount of whammy bar and finger vibrato to sort of tempt those notes to come on out. I’ve enjoyed that enormously over the years.

A lot of your soloing is based on minor pentatonic and blues scales. Do you feel a particular affinity for blues?
The blues is a part of my musical vocabulary. I received a wide and varied musical education in terms of what was being played on the radio in England when I was a kid. It could be John Lee Hooker, who would just do a big open E chord—boom—and that would be as expressive to me as something from the Threepenny Opera by Kurt Weill, or the sorts of scales that Leonard Bernstein used in West Side Story, or the melodic guitar playing of Hank Marvin and the Shadows. Those things all combine to give me the palette I use—part of the paint that one has to slosh about with— and the blues are very much a part of that. But you couldn’t get much farther away from being a blues purist than me.

Do you think in terms of scales and conventional harmony, or are you playing more intuitively?
I have no idea about scales. I didn’t really know what scales I use, or even that I was using anything unusual, until I started playing the saxophone. I would be playing for my sax teacher, and he’d say, “Oh, you’re playing in Slombonian and Lilliputian,” and I’d have no idea what he meant. He would play me that scale, and I would say, “Yeah, I guess that sounds like the choice of notes that seems to be right for me at that particular moment.” He was quite surprised at the variety of different scales that are a part of my normal working palette. I’m not trying to sound like an idiot savant—I know my stuff—but I don’t know all the names of the different scales.

How long have you been playing the saxophone?
I’ve been playing for five or six years now. I started learning it with my son Charlie, who is studying sax at school. I got his teacher to come over to my house and give me lessons, too.

Has learning to play the sax had any effect on your guitar playing, or vice verse?
I think my guitar playing has definitely affected my sax playing—at least in my choice of notes. The sax sound in my head that I’m trying to get is an unusual one, and it’s not the one that my sax teacher gets and thinks is the right one. I have a particular sound, and I can’t really describe what that is, but it is influenced by my guitar playing.

Are the Fender David Gilmour Signature Series Stratocasters replicas of the current version of your Black Strat?
They are pretty much the way the guitar is now. I have some final prototypes of the two different versions, and they are brilliant. In my opinion, they are just as good as my Black Strat, if not better, and I would have no hesitation about using them on a gig. In fact, I used the NOS model when I did an Atom Heart Mother show recently.

You’ve had the mini-toggle, which adds in the neck pickup, for 25 years. Is that sound a staple part of what you do, and would we recognize it on a lot of songs?
No. I’m not sure I’ve ever used it [laughs]. The neck pickup along with the bridge pickup has that particular in-between sound, and you can also get all three pickups on at once if you want to. It basically lets you get a Jazzmaster tone out of a Stratocaster. I play with it, but I don’t remember when I’ve used it on a record.

Which pickup settings do you use most frequently?
I use the neck pickup for the bluesiertype things, and the bridge pickup for the rockier-type things. And I use the position between the bridge and the middle pickup quite a bit on rhythm things.

Is the shortened tremolo arm set up so that you can reach it more easily with your pinky?
Yeah. A lot of guitar players have the arm going through their fingers, and when they want to wiggle it, they have to move their hand up three or four inches. At one point in my career I found that irritating, so I just cut one off with a hacksaw to see what would happen. It’s not like you need that extra length to get the proper amount of leverage if your tremolo system is set up correctly. Also, I like the tremolo arm to be stiff in its hole, so that when you let go, it doesn’t drop down and hang vertically. If I want to get rid of it, I can push it out of the way.

Because the leverage is different with that modification, did you also change the number of springs or other setup details?
These days, I typically use three springs. I like to let the bridge plate sit onto the body completely, and then I tighten up the six bridge screws until they sit perfectly on the top of that, without actually pressing down on it. Then, I tighten the strings up to get the right tension on them, and then I sometimes screw the screws that hold the springs at the back deeper into the body until it gets exactly right. You can have those screws slightly looser and add a fourth spring, or you can remove another spring and tighten them up a little bit. Obviously, if I used heavier-gauged strings, I would maybe add another spring.

What are some of the altered or open tunings you have used?
I’ve used a lot of different tunings in my time. I do the dropped-D for a number of things, such as “Run Like Hell” and “Short and Sweet.” On “Poles Apart” on The Division Bell, I used DADGAD tuning—which I thought I had discovered all by myself. On “Pillow of Winds” from Meddle, I used a tuning that I made up, which has the 1, 2, and 3 notes of the scale in it. I also use at least three different tunings on slide and lap-steel guitars: G, B, D, G, B, E [low to high]; E, B, E, G, B, E [low to high]; and E, B, E, G#, B, E [low to high]. I don’t know where these things came from. They’re just sort of my own personal adaptations for what I need.

When recording solos, do you still record several solos and then comp them together?
Pretty much. Often, the first take is the best, so it becomes the template, and I just try to tidy it up by redoing certain bits. There is no hard and fast rule, however. Sometimes, I’ll spend all day without getting anything that seems right, and then suddenly the part will just come. I have a penchant for melody, and sometimes melodies will just burst straight out. I have also resorted to singing a solo first, and then learning it on the guitar.

What do you record to?
I’m working mostly in Pro Tools these days, recording at 96kHz.

Do you find that Pro Tools further enables your track-compiling tendencies?
Editing in Pro Tools is certainly easier than it ever was with tape, so there is the temptation to get too many damn tracks down, and then have to organize them by drawing out charts with little ticks for every three- or four-bar moment, marking them one-through-ten, and then trying to join the best bits all together. But often that doesn’t actually result in a cohesive part. Do you then sometimes go, “Screw this,” and just go back and try to play one straight through? Yeah.

Pink Floyd’s music has often been categorized as “progressive rock.”Were you a progressive rock fan back in the day, and do you feel any affinity with that movement?
To be honest, I don’t. The general genre that people describe as progressive rock is not really my thing. The other bands that we tend to be lumped in together with have never been people I’ve wanted to listen to, and I personally don’t feel our music fits into that category, or that we were ever on quite the same wavelength.

Are you an Eddie Van Halen fan?
I’ve met him a couple of times, and he always seemed to be a very nice guy. I have to confess that I don’t listen to an awful lot of Van Halen, but Eddie is fantastic. His moments of sheer, unbridled, joyful playing— as he did on the Michael Jackson track—can’t help but make you want to jump around on a dance floor. He was a major influence on a lot of people, wasn’t he? He changed rock music, and he made a lot of very average players think they were a lot better than they actually were!

TECH TALK FROM PHIL TAYLOR

Phil Taylor has been David Gilmour’s guitar tech since 1974. During that time, he has overseen the evolution and maintenance of both Gilmour and Pink Floyd’s live and recording rigs. Taylor played a significant role in facilitating the development of the David Gilmour Signature Series Stratocasters, modeled on the latest incarnation of Gilmour’s legendary Black Strat, and his book, Pink Floyd: The Black Strat, A History of David Gilmour’s Black Fender Stratocaster, details the long and surprisingly complex history of that instrument. —BC

There is an amazing amount of documentation in the book going back decades. Did you consciously compile all of the material, knowing that, at some point, you would use it, or was it more a matter of doing research and working backward?
When we decided to make the signature guitars, Todd Krause and Mike Eldred came over from the Fender Custom Shop, and Mike asked me about the history of the Black Strat. I knew quite a lot already, but I felt I should find out more. I started doing some research—mostly bysorting through paperwork and other factual information I have in files dating back to when I began working with Pink Floyd and David. Originally, there were no plans for a book, but a friend of mine who is a book designer offered to lay everything out and turn it into a book. I agreed, thinking I already had most of the information. Once I began documenting everything—including finding photographs that showed all the changes to the guitar over time—it turned into an incredibleamount of work. For one thing, there were the four years David owned the guitar before I was working with the band, during which time a lot of things happened to it. David’s memory is a little sketchy on some of it, and many of the photographs from that period were mislabeled, so it was a bit of a minefield. Then, I discovered there had actually been three “Black Strats”—which he hadn’t told me! It took many months of working very long hours to sort everything out.

The book’s second edition is updated and expanded. Besides adding material about what has happened since the first edition was published in 2007, what does the expansion consist of?
There are an additional 36 pages of photos and information, and about two-thirds of the original pages have been altered, with some photographs and layouts being changed. Corrections were also made in light of newinformation. Also, David continues to use the guitar, and I am actively taking notes regarding things that could be incorporated into a future edition.

Has David read it?
I don’t know. I’ve given it to him. He thought it was a daft idea. But a lot has happened to this guitar over quite a long period, and it has been used on some incredibly iconic recordings and live shows. There are probably not that many guitars that you could write an entire book about.

Is it true that you may write a comprehensive book about Pink Floyd’s gear?
There have been requests for such a book, but it’s just an idea at this time. I’m the only person who has worked with the band for so many years, and, therefore, my records and knowledge are pretty much second to none. But knowing how much work was involved with the Black Strat book, I have to decide if I can make the commitment.

What was your role in the Fender Custom Shop’s replication of the Black Strat?
Harassing Fender to make as authentic and precise a replica as possible [laughs]. Todd and Mike came to England, and we took the guitar apart and measured and photographed it. Much later, I took it to the Custom Shop in Corona for critical comparisons before the final prototypes were made. They had sent David and me several prototypes in between trips—along with a specially modified guitar that let us easily swap and try out different pickups. David’s main criteria were that the replica should have the same feel and setup as the original—including the tremolo setup—and that the pickups should sound the same.

You experimented with numerous pickup configurations over the years. Are the current pickups in the guitar stock, or were any specially wound or otherwise customized?
Seymour Duncan sent us three or four batches of pickups in the mid to late ’70s that he custom wound for David, and we experimented with them—particularly in the bridge position. One of the Duncan bridge pickups is still there. David preferred it to a DiMarzio he had been using, which, in turn, had replaced a Fender. Fender created new pickups for the neck and middle positions on the replica to match the originals, and David actually chose a neck pickup that is very close, but that he thinks sounds slightly betterthan the original. He may even swap it out on the Black Strat.

What do you think of this business of replica guitars?
It depends on why you create them, and for whom they are designed. There had been a lot of requests over the years for a David Gilmour model—both from fans and from Fender—but David only agreed to it on the condition they could not make a limited-edition run of very expensive, elitist replicas that would only be available to rich collectors. He wanted the guitars to be very good quality, true replicas that musicians or fans could hope to afford. [Retail prices are $3,999 for the NOS, and $4.799 for the Relic.] Another interesting thing is that once the replica process neared completion, David thought it would be really nice to see one as a newguitar, so I asked Todd to make one with identical non-distressed parts— an NOS model. David really liked it, and he started using it. We asked Fender to makethis NOS guitar available as a second model, and to release them at the same time, in order to give people a choice. The two models are identical in terms of playability and sound. But the NOS feels and looks brand new out of the box, whereas the Relic feels like a guitar that has been played a while.

GILMOUR’S 2006 TOURING RIG

“All of the Pink Floyd guitar systems we had were large and complex in order to accommodate playing songs from the back catalog. In 1998, I suggested to David the idea of having a valve pedalboard built. My thought was that we needed a small high-quality board, with a minimum of pedals, to use for both recording and small gigs. I wanted to retain as many of the sonic qualities that one gets by plugging a passive guitar with a good cable straight into an amp as possible. To achieve this, valves were used on the input and outputs for buffering—an interesting idea that we had not tried previously. Many discussions with Pete Cornish ensued regarding feasibility and reliability. There were problems to be solved with transformer size, heat, fragility, and microphonics of the valves, while still limiting it to a small size. Pete tends to make things large, with plenty of room for servicing, which is fair enough, but this had to be small. Hats off to Pete, who managed with few compromises to shoehorn everything into the minimal space available. In 2005, I realized we would soon be touring, and that while the valve board sounded great in the studio, it would be too small and inflexible to use as a main live board. I asked Pete to build another one, this time larger to incorporate more effects and facilities. That board is shown in the photograph.”

“I introduced David to the Electro-Harmonix Big Muff Pi in 1974. He liked it, and he has continued to use one ever since. David has tried many of the different incarnations and models over the years, but his original has often been preferred for most things. Finding another that sounds the same is not easy. I have even placed six in a row that externally appeared to be identical to his original, and they all sounded different. Often, when you look inside, some components and values are different. Also, David doesn’t necessarily use anything exactly as it is, or as you would expect. There are times when he has run a Big Muff into various things such as a Boogie head or a BK Butler Tube Driver, or added a graphic equalizer, etc. That’s the thing with David. He’ll have a certain sound in his head, and he’ll tweak his gear to find it. He just has this ability, and he always knows.” —Phil Taylor

http://www.guitarplayer.com/article/david-gilmour-delicate/jan-09/92015

Altura de las single coils en una Fender stratocaster

La altura óptima de las cápsulas simples es finalmente, un gusto personal.

sin embargo algunos hemos sufrido de innumerables problemas inexplicables con este tipo de cápsulas (Stratitis).

De acuerdo a Fender, se sugieren las siguientes alturas, dependiendo del tipo de cápsulas que tengas instaladas:

Cuerdas bajas Cuerdas agudas:
Texas Specials 8/64" (3.6 mm) 6/64" (2.4 mm)
Vintage style 6/64" (2.4 mm) 5/64" (2 mm)
Noiseless™ Series 8/64" (3.6 mm) 6/64" (2.4 mm)
Standard Single-Coil 5/64" (2 mm) 4/64" (1.6 mm)
Humbuckers 4/64" (1.6 mm) 4/64" (1.6 mm)

Estas alturas deben ser tomadas apretando las cuerdas en el ultimo fret (21 si es vintage, 22 si es más nueva), lo más cerca del cuerpo y la regla de medición debe ser ubicada en el magneto de la cápsula hasta la altura de la cuerda.

http://www.fender.com/support/stratocaster.php