TUNING UP
Four 4-Stringers Who Shake My World BY SHAWN HAMMOND
Between my band’s recent dif- ficulties with finding a good
fit in the 4-string department,
and the recent passing of legendary bassist Donald “Duck” Dunn
(see Steve Cook’s obit on p. 28,
as well as more personal remembrances in On Bass, p. 42), I’ve
been thinking a lot about how
magical—and elusive—great bass
playing can be. I know this isn’t
news to any of the readers/view-ers in PG’s pretty sizable bass-playing contingent, but it bears
repeating for anyone else who
thinks a bassist is just someone
who couldn’t hack it on guitar—
someone who should just look
at the guitarist’s barre chord and
play the lowest note therein.
With the exception of the
rare technical guru who also
happens to be harmonically
savvy—players like Chris Squire,
Geddy Lee, and Flea—great
bassists usually fly under the
radar, undetected because
their contributions are ever-so-subtle—and yet those subtleties
have so much to do with the
overall feel of a great song. A
ghost note, a muted, percussive
stutter, a slow, gentle slide into
the actual note—all are easy to
overlook in a world where over-the-top playing tends to get you
noticed. But what separates the
4-string gods I mentioned above
from other notably dexterous
players is their wisdom and priorities—they realize melodies,
harmonies, rhythms, and other
nuances are more impactful than
spotlight-grabbing histrionics.
I’d like to take some space
here to pay tribute to some of
the low-end masters who’ve
inspired my own playing and
enriched my life with their
wonderful creativity.
John Paul Jones. So many
pixels and reams of paper have
been dedicated to every aspect
of Led Zeppelin that one almost
feels guilty bringing them up in
a musical conversa-
tion. But the fact is,
while Jimmy Page,
Robert Plant, and
John Bonham typically get all
the attention, Jones cemented all
those classic tunes in a way few
could. He had the perfect combi-
nation of a sophisticated vocabu-
lary and an impeccable sense of
movement. Can you imagine
“What Is and What Should
Never Be” without that laidback,
totally confident swing in the
verse, and then that swaggering,
effortlessly melodic bounce dur-
ing the solo? And the first section
of “The Song Remains the Same”
would just be echoing, thin-
sounding chord washes without
Jonesy’s tight, urgency-adding
lines and wonderful meandering
during the open sections. And he
always had the sagely self-confi-
dence to know when to just rock
the eighth-notes—or pull his
bass out of the mix completely
(see “Rock & Roll,” “Babe, I’m
Gonna Leave You”). And it wasn’t
because he didn’t have chops.
Try nailing the verse grooves and
then the fast arpeggios during
the solo to “Good Times Bad
Times,” and then we’ll see whose
hands are cramping up.
workings, but if you compare
their breakthrough debut, 1988’s
Vivid, as well as the 1990 follow-up, Time’s Up—their last studio
album to feature Skillings—with
subsequent records, there’s a
distinct difference. The first two
felt more dynamic, breathed
more, had better songs, and felt
fresher. Without Skillings’ great
background vocals and complex,
driving, funky bass lines, Living
Colour’s work tends to sound
quite dark—thematically and
tonally. Need proof? Witness
the infectious calypso funk of
“Glamour Boys,” the muted
strutting and chord flourishes on
“Love Rears Its Ugly Head,” and
the smoldering burps and slides
of “Under Cover of Darkness.”
We miss you, Muzz!
Tim Commerford. For
most of the ’90s, Rage Against
the Machine’s Commerford and
drummer Brad Wilk were regarded as one of the tightest, most
bombastic rhythm sections in
rock, even if vocalist
Zack de la Rocha
and quirky guitarist
Tom Morello got
most of the attention. But while
the tightness and bombast labels
were spot-on—and totally laudable—there was a lot more to
Commerford’s playing than lock-step riffs (see “Freedom,” “Bulls
on Parade”). He put a lot of
thought and effort into his tones,
coming up with inventive multi-amp rigs and clever effects applications that yielded perhaps the
best, most distinctive distorted
bass sound in rock. Most of all,
he gave Rage’s rage a whole new
dimension with his ominously
funky sense of movement (“Ashes
in the Fall,” “Sleep Now in the
Fire”) and lines that became
hooks in and of themselves (“I’m
Housin’”). My biggest lesson
from Commerford: For a stronger, more consistent fingerstyle
tone and attack, play repeating
quarter- and eighth-note runs
with only your picking-hand
index finger whenever the part
isn’t too fast or fatiguing.
Darryl Jenifer.
In the grand
scheme of things,
Bad Brains is one
of those criminally overlooked
bands in modern music history—especially considering
the innovative way they’ve
always seamlessly fused reggae, dub, soul, funk, punk,
and metal elements. Anyone
who can pump out James
Jamerson-toned reggae rhythms
with addictive little slides and
effortlessly morph into raging,
punk-fueled verses (“Stay Close
to Me” from 1980’s The Omega
Sessions) with such aplomb at
the age of 20 is cool in my
book. As the late Beastie Boy
Adam Yauch—who produced
the last BB album, Build a
Nation in 2007—once said,
“There’s a raw energy that goes
beyond technical skill. Other
musicians could play the same
riffs and chord changes, but it
wouldn’t have the same power.”
Can’t wait to hear the new BB
album due out this year.
Got a favorite bassist who’s
a bit off the beaten path? Write
me and let me know!
Adios for now!
Shawn Hammond
shawn@premierguitar.com
