Track by track
Praxis
While I was getting my chops together and taking those first, post-GIT steps towards professional guitarificating in what was effectively a squat in London, I was extraordinarily disciplined. Or extraordinarily obsessive-compulsive. Kinda depends on your viewpoint. Part of my practice routine included time to compose. I probably call it ‘the creative hour’ or something equally daft. It was simple. I opened the dictionary at random and pointed my finger at the page. The word it pointed at was then subjected to an hour’s composing. I usually got daft words like devanagari, lagopthalmia, and so on. I still have a musical exercise book full of words followed by notation. Praxis was one of the words. I decided to work something up about artificial harmonics. And this is it reimagined by my good friend (and one-time student) Sanjit Suchak.
I, Sybarite
A sybarite is a seeker of pleasure and self-indulgence. The tune is excessively self-indulgent. That’s its job. Based on a Kreuzer etude (I think), and rather obviously Bachian, I set myself the task of taking one small sequence and going totally over the top with it. Hence the odd-meter bars, insane picking and harmonies. Everything was pretty much one pass. The first solo is mine, and was totally off-the-cuff. The harmoniser effect at the beginning was played live by grabbing the top two strings together and playing them together. The second solo is by guitar master Martin Goulding, veteran of many a magazine and student of mine many years ago. Another Martin, Martin Johnson, played drums – I love the little fill that starts it off. So gentle and innocent and then ... This was the first track we finished (and is the only one with my bass on it), and the mix was by the late, great Keith More. Some of this is transcribed here.
Solos:
Me, Martin
Pinkerton Saves the Day
Originally written and recorded in a broom cupboard in Nottingham back in 1989, the rhythm part and main melody appeared on one of the twelve-track tapes the rest of the album was on, but with no other parts. A great rhythm section from the MI London days in the shape of Mike Sturgis and Stephan Redtenbacher, a fabulous Carltonesque solo and melodic bits by Terry Lewis, and some groovy horns by Nichol Thompson. I honestly can’t remember the chords in the breakdowns (ask Terry, he’ll know), but they had lots of extensions. Honest.
Women in Corsets
I have no idea where this came from, but another top MI London rhythm section comprising (Dr., no less) Enrico Morena on drums and Si Mulvey, with whom I’ve played more gigs than I’d care to admit, on bass. I still love that slippery, sinuous legato lick that stops on a ha’penny in the first solo, which was totally improvised (you can tell that I was starting to lose control in the middle) and Pat Heath’s solo, in itself an object lesson in modern fusion chopology, cuts in just early enough to save my ass! The classy blues harp is courtesy of Roger Wade, who I’ve known since I was about 8.
Solos:
Me, Pat, Roger
Plashet Groove
Named for the road in East Ham where the whole shebang was recorded, but how it sounds if you’re from Norfolk. Bryan McLellan on drums (we last played together, if memory serves, onstage at the London Guitar Show in the O2 arena complex back in nineteen ninety-something with Michael Angelo Batio. A really fun little gig), Mel Gabbitas on Bass (we played in a rather fine band called It Takes Presidents, which didn’t sound anything like this), and the talents of the guitar tag team that is Jamie and Darren Hunt. Jamie and Darren took wild liberties with the original tracks, the results of which speak for themselves.
Hirsute Interior
Another title that springs from the written word, this time from a character in Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi who says something like ‘Beware of those wolves that are hairy on the inside’. It’s entirely possible that I ‘borrowed’ the initial guitar riff from a fellow student at GIT in Los Angeles called Nathan Ehrenfeld – if so, apologies, but it’s a cool riff, no? I was going for a metal Glenn Miller sound and it all got out of hand. Daft metric modulation amongst other shenanigans ably dealt with by Martin Johnson and Si Mulvey. Evil not-quite-twins Jamie and Darren Hunt again took wild liberties with the original tracks and created the monster that you’re litening to.
P. Rex
A rather crazed tribute to Robert Fripp and all things Crimson, P. Rex began as a series of odd-note exercises designed to torment the ear-brain-fingers connection. Beyond listening to where each individual note should be (and how long it ought manifest itself) the playing of each part needs to occur in its own reality. Originally backed by a simple percussion sequence, Neil Huxtable added a drum track that takes it to another dimension, while Ludwig Izaguirre glues the tracks together in a sort of ‘Rubber Shirt’ vibe. Guests were Paul Waller on slide, followed Joe Baldwin, an ex-student also responsible for the design of the website and inserts, and, finally, Mark Brenner, with whom I had a band back in ’82 (though he wasn’t playing sitar back then).
Solos:
Paul Waller, Joe Baldwin, Mark Brenner
Red Dust
This was recorded in the same broom cupboard as the original ‘Pinkerton’ back in 1989. It was very difficult to play and I ended up splitting it into three parts and recording each one separately. Drunk. And in the dark. It was about a pair of curtains we washed in our rented house. They were red. They were dirty. We washed them. They disintegrated as they dried. You get the picture. Three disparate tapping styles – Satriani, then Steve Lynch, then my own brand. I honestly can’t remember how I did the third part. It sounds odd, but that’s because a) it originally had sequenced drums underneath it (which were removed years ago) and b) I doubled the entire section (you can hear how I counted wrong at the end when the two tracks split). Back then it was a serious party piece. I particularly loved the metric modulation in the 2nd movement.
Gladiators, Ready?
This was originally a vocal tune (would you believe?) but the opening riff was what I thought ought to have been played on the crappy show, Gladiators, when the umpire set everything off. Lots of interesting things going on. Lots of harmonies, and some very stupid guitars (we love ‘em). A fabulous set of guests on this. Back to the powerhouse rhythm section of Brian McLellan and Mel Gabbitas, and three fabulous guitarists making me look silly. First up after me is the Guv’nor, Phil Hilborne. Can’t say enough good things about this geezer and his playing. He’s an institution, let’s put it that way. Next we have Steve Forward, a fantastic player who I was lucky enough to teach way back in 90/91. He was all over t’web a couple of years ago with his live verson of Purple Rain. Check it out. Then Phil comes back ... one solo not being enough to do him justice (incidentally, transcriptions for Phil’s parts are available here). And, finally, the producer and engineer who made all this possible, Bora Uslasoy.
Solos:
Me, Phil, Steve, Phil, Bora
Downloads:
Phil Hilborne solo 1 transcription | Phil Hilborne solo 2 transcription
Dancing with Architects
This was a tune I used to add a chord to every few months. Zappa fans will immediately clock the title. Sanj arranged and played this version, and very lovely it is too.