Individualist & Musician (Gitarre & Bass 1994)
Summary: This interview touches on so many subjects that it's impossible to summarize. Notably, this is one of the very few cases where Allan talks about the offer he got to play with Miles Davis.
THE ORIGINAL ARTICLE CAN BE DOWNLOAD FOR FREE AT https://www.gitarrebass.de/heftarchiv/1994-11/holdsworth-allan/
This is a machine translated version of the German article Individualist & Musiker (Gitarre & Bass 1994). The translation has been only lightly edited. Some obvious errors have been corrected. The text is by and large highly intelligible, but in some places there are problems with the quality of the underlying OCR source material. Where I found this, I marked it in brackets. You will note that the syntax is odd in many places. Because this article is so long, and the admin is not a native German nor English speaker, most of these oddities have not been changed. If someone would like to volunteer a full blown human translation, please send a message to the Allan Holdsworth Archives on Facebook.
Allan Holdsworth, Individualist & musician
Guitar & Bass, June 1997
By Lothar Trampert
If you were to create a top ten of the most innovative electric guitarists since the development of this instrument, then Allan Holdsworth would certainly have earned one of the top chart positions. Because, to be honest, so many musicians have not been there, which could realize their own six strings at the same time an individual style, new sound concepts and clear recognition value.
A. Holdsworth was born on August 6, 1948 in Yorkshire, England, and grew up in Bradford, an industrial city in the north. His father Sam was a pianist, but earned his money predominantly as a seller in a department store. Allan himself never had a formal musical education, his later development was characterized mainly by the music he heard in his parents' house: big-band jazz by Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw, but also records by trumpeter Bix Beiderbecke or saxophonist and Bebop giants Charlie Parker belonged to his father's collection. Besides other horn players - u.a. John Coltrane and Julian "Cannonball" Adderley - at first it was just a guitarist who interested Allan: Charlie Christian. Due to his preference for saxophonists Allan then only relatively late, at the age of 17 years, to the guitar. More about his further artistic development in the following interview.
Allan Holdsworth lives today with his wife and three children in what is known to be the rain-poor south of California. In addition to his house, he has set up a small studio in a garage, which, according to his own information, has been under construction for years - good equipment is known to cost a lot, and Allan, despite his high reputation in music circles, has never been one of those earned more than they needed to live.
Holdsworth is on the one hand a very reserved man, but full of friendliness and helpfulness. "Call me before you leave," he said on the phone. "I'll pick you up at the station." That's what he said - and two hours later we sat in his studio between guitars, amps, and effects. It could start.
G & B: How did it happen that you emigrated to the United States a few years ago?
A.H .: After working with Bill Bruford, which was around the end of the 70s, I finally wanted to put together my own band. I was always only a member of bands of other musicians and now I just wanted to realize my ideas, because I already had a number of compositions in the drawer. At that time, I met drummer Gary Husband, and we got along great. We searched for a bassist for a long time and finally found Paul Carmichael. Then we had the problem of not getting any real gigs and usually played only in some London pubs, in front of fifteen people. A friend of mine, singer Paul Williams, was living in California at the time, and he had given us three gigs via Mike Varney (now head of Shrapnel Records, d.) Mike was such a fan of ours, and he had persuaded a club owner in San Francisco to book us. It was an incredible thing for me and the band because the place was full! Every night more than 500 people passed by, and in London, only 15 had actually been there before. At first I did not understand that at all, but I realized that despite everything, there was an audience for our music. And since I had occasionally read my name in American magazines, I decided to stay in the USA. In England, I saw no way to survive as a musician; If I had stayed, I would surely have given up this job. Sure, I would have continued to play guitar, but not as a professional. So that was the reason for my move.
G & B: In recent years, you have barely accepted studio jobs alongside your own productions.
A.H .: No, even at the time I am not interested in this direction.
G & B: Is that basically not the case or is there a lack of offers?
A.H .: No, I do not want that. I'm not good at doing something other people want me to do write. I would not be a good soldier either. It's more about doing my own things. Of course, that's not easy, because I can not make money from it, when I'm just working on my music. If we can go on tour for a while, that's okay. But in the months that I spend here at home, sometimes it looks a bit tough financially. But that's fine. In all these years I've gotten a lot of equipment, maybe I have enough stuff in ten years, that I can produce my own music completely and no longer rely on record companies. Then everything would look quite different.
G & B: Michael Landau told me that for him there is a very clear separation between his own music and the studio jobs. So you could not imagine such an ambiguous life.
A.H .: I do not think so. Often, when I used to play for other people, they did not use my recording at all, but later moved it to someone else. They always called and said, "We like the way you play and want you to do your thing for this song. Do exactly what you imagine. "Afterwards Then they realized that they did not like it. Actually, they mostly want you to do something that you do not want to do yourself. For another important reason, I am also not interested in such work: I have met a lot of people, great musicians who came into this studio scene, but afterwards did not find their way. Because if you make a lot of money with it, it is not so easy to get back from this lifestyle path, if you want to realize your own music. And since I never had much money, I just got used to it. Of course it has gradually improved over time; and I like that more than if I suddenly became rich with a thing that I do not like, and then I can not get away from it. All I want to do is play, and such studio jobs are not always necessarily music for me. Sure, I also do occasional jobs, when I make certain electronic devices for people, that always earns me some money if we are not on tour, as in the past few months. But I'd rather build some kind of device for someone than play something I do not like in the studio for other people.
G & B: But you were on the penultimate album from level 42. How could you do this?
A.H .: That was a few years ago. Gary Husband was at level 42, and their guitarist died suddenly. They asked me if I could not come to England to play some solos. I knew they were all very nice guys, so I did that. I helped them out while looking for a new guitarist - that was an exceptional situation. And there was really no typical session atmosphere, I felt already integrated into the band context.
G & B: Tempest, Soft Machine, Lifetime, Jean-Luc Ponty, UK, Gong, Bill Bruford - these are probably the most important formations and musicians you've worked with. Which phase was the most important for you in retrospect?
A.H .: They were all important, every band in their time. It was all the same to me, and all the bands were fun for a variety of reasons. U.K. maybe least. I really liked working with Bill (Bruford, the drummer of UK): on his solo albums, especially on the second, One Of A Kind, "I felt most in a band. Before that, it was always rather sessions.
G & B: But at U.K. itself was the cooperation less good?
AH. No, that was not great. They are all very nice people, I still like them and I'm happy when I see them, but that was kind of a musical incompatibility, together we never wanted to do what each one wanted to do. It was actually Eddie's (violinist / keyboardist Eddie Jobson, dV) band, and he and (singer / bassist) John Wetton saw things in their own way, Bill stood in the middle and me at the very other end. (Grins). I really was not a good guy for this band, I think today. I could change things, play everything differently, but that never had any effect on the other musicians. It was like playing with a machine, and that drove me crazy. Playing with Gary Husband gives me a reaction to every little thing I do. I like this organic thing, but in the UK there was no life in that respect - it was dead, it was pasteurized music. There was no room for improvisation, and they asked me to perform the same solos live as on the record. I can not do that, because that contradicts everything that I believe in. (Laughs). It is not a solo if it is not improvised!
G & B: Was that different in the band of Jean-Luc Ponty?
A.H .: Oh yes, there I could play my solos as I wanted. Of course I had to learn the compositions, but I always had my freedom.
G & B: Jean-Luc Ponty is probably more jazz musician than his late seventies fusion albums suggest.
A.H .: I think he's great, and he's also underestimated by many people. I experienced him on stage, and that was fascinating. This time I enjoyed a lot, also becaus I see him as a human Very Imag
G & B: Have you ever worked with Miles Davis or Frank Zappa? I would have imagined the combination with you interesting.
Ah no. I met Frank through Chad Wackerman, who worked with him. Frank was very good to me, he helped me a lot. He always supported me generously, and I really miss him. What I loved about him was that in many ways he was a person to look up to, not just as a musician. He was an organizer of his life, beating record companies and getting the best out of everything. I thought that was great. He was a guy like Clint Eastwood, someone who did everything in his own way without being deeply involved in the business - and successfully, Frank Zappa was successful with what he did, and all that was just his own merit. I admire something like that, although I do not succeed myself; I think differently. But I would like to get to the point of being able to live well in my own world, without ever having to get out of it. My own little Disneyland, that would be great (laughs).
G & B: I just mentioned Miles Davis, who admired you very much as a guitarist.
A.H .: I did not know that then. Then at some point I got a call from his manager or one of his musicians, and they asked me if I wanted to play with him. And of course I wanted that! But just at that time already a tour with my own band, and I was in a total conflict. I could not possibly cancel this tour because I did not want to abandon my musicians. Yes, and I think he did not call me again (laughs). But that would have been a great thing.
[PROOFREAD]
G & B: Who is your favorite among the [Milosavas] guitarists?
A.H .: Oh, I like them all, I think each one of them was great: John McLaughlin, Mike Stern, John Scofield - they are all more than fantastic.
G & B: Is there any guitarist you feel influenced by?
A.H .: I think everyone influenced me. There are many musicians, not just guitarists, who I like. In a way, everything influences me, which I like. As I heard John Scofield and John McLaughlin, I found them both very inspiring, in different ways. But I never wanted to analyze anything or go deeper. I accept it as it is: as something I hear and like. This is also my measure of quality. I accept the high standards of these musicians and try to reach a high level without doing anything that other people already do. To achieve this kind of quality level, I try in my music. Whether I reach so close to these people, to musicians that I find really impressive, I do not know. Time will tell.
G & B: You once said in an interview that there were a lot of recordings you were involved in that you are ashamed of, John Scofield told me the same thing a short time ago.
AH. Yes, that is a disgusting feeling, the worst feeling in the world. Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who do not care what the artist says and wants - bootleggers, producers who just want to do some lousy record. A good example of this is my album Velvet Darkness ", which is and has always been horrible: just how it was done, no one had the fair chance to listen to the recordings in the control room, etc. Plus it was a big financial rip-off on all involved musicians , At first I was told that the album would not be released, and I just thought, great, you're worried. Then suddenly different bootleggers came out with these recordings, and then the worst thing ever happened: a big major company, Epic Records, brought out those recordings, at a time when all seven albums I had recorded and I was really proud of that, just not available anymore! I went to the shops, and the only record I found out about it was Velvet Darkness "You know, when such things happen, I say to myself, 'since!' And I want to fuck everything, find a job, and otherwise only ride a bicycle This aspect of the music business is so sick, it's all about money, everything is reduced to the money
G & B: And you do not receive any money on this record?
Ah no! Never, not a penny. My lawyer then hunted them and the album was taken out of the bargain. And that's why I can do people too as John Scofield understand, when they just do not want to listen to some recordings. Of course, there are things that I do not like so much today, after a long time, as well as the point when I took them - that's different. But as far as Velvet Darkness is concerned, it's absolutely impossible to listen to it today.
G & B: Similarly negative have you ever commented on your recordings with the drummer John Stevens.
A.H .: No, I really do not like them. Because in this case, he himself was also the wound point in the matter. We just wanted to make an album, Touching On said that I believe, and he does not play any real compositions, but we have all spontaneously improvised. Anyone who has ever tried this, knows that sometimes it can be very good, but sometimes extremely bad. After we had recorded some of these improvisations, all the musicians involved decided together which passages should come on the album and which not - we were also very schnelliner opinion. And what did John Stevens do? He made some deal and used everything, including all the shit we never wanted published! And that's something, you know, that's easy not to apologize, because he was one of us after all, it was a musician who did that! If it was someone from the record company, I might have been able to swallow it, but he was one of the band. I hope I will never have anything to do with him again, I do not want to meet him anymore. (laughs) At least not in the next few years.
G & B: Let's talk about pleasing matters. Joe Satriani, in a conversation for a workshop series in this magazine, once mentioned how important you were to his musical development.
A.H .: Oh, really?
G & B: He related, among other things, how crucial "Believe It of the Tony Williams Lifetime, with you as a guitarist, influenced him (G & B, Issue 2/94, d. WBB). A key message was that he found in your style the model for the elaboration and realization of his own ideas.
A.H .: Oh, that's great. I am very happy to hear that. We met only a few times very briefly.
G & B: Let's get back to your beginnings: Before you exclusively earned your money as a musician, you were a normal worker.
A.H .: I have a lot of jobs behind me, and even after focusing on the music, I often worked casually. (Laughing). These great eight-hour jobs
G & B: Can you still remember from when your guitar playing showed that typical flowing character that is your trademark today?
AH. Something like that. I did not start playing too early. I always loved the music, I grew up in a very musical environment, too, because my father played constantly records of excellent musicians, which I always listened to. I love the music since I was three or four years old, since I always sat in front of this old turntable exploring my father's collection. On the other hand, I never had much interest in becoming a musician, it was more by accident. I always nibbled a bit on a guitar we had at home. Actually, I wanted to play saxophone at that time, but my parents could not afford such an instrument. With [17griffich] then finally to the guitar, and when I was 19 or 20 years old, then asked me friends, if I did not want to play in their bands. Then I also began to engage more intensively with the instrument. I played in a top 40 band in England for about three years, that was my first chance to work professionally. They paid me good money, I think it was £ 25 a week, that was a lot. At the factory, I only earned 13 or 14 pounds a week, and the job in the band meant that I could practice every day and still have more money than before. And just in this phase, 1969/70, just before I played with Tempest, I heard for the first time things in my playing that I always wanted to hear. Before that, I always sounded exactly different than I wanted, it was a constant fight.
G & B: At that time you still played on a Strat or a Gibson SG.
A.H .: It was a red SG standard, then I had a White SG Custom, which Strat came later. I also had a Vox AC30, then I played a Marshall JCM 45, or whatever it was called, over a huge 8x10 "box, but I then rebuilt it into a 4x12" box that was just as big good sound. I played the SG and the Marshall for a very long time, also with Tony Williams. Shortly before I worked with Jean-Luc Ponty, I experimented with humbuckers on a Stratocaster - it worked very well, and today almost everybody does that. (Grins). That's been a thousand years, I think sometimes.
G & B: Once again, back to your "trademark": When did you first hear about the [???], distorted guitar tone?
A.H .: I do not remember exactly. Of course I've seen people like Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton playing with that sort of sound; but that was not exactly the tone I had in mind. The approach came already, I think: a lot of sustain etc. I have always been interested in amplifiers; even back in the late '68, I developed some devices that let me tune down the sound in front of the speakers, playing at a moderate volume with a [far-flung], distorting amp. Incidentally, I did not like Fender amps at the time, because they did not distort that much. This area interested me very much, I always wanted to know what was behind it. So I also worked with some people who modified the amplifiers, looked at what they were doing, read books about tube amps, learned various tricks, and finally built preamps myself, which I switched in front of my amplifiers for some more input and distortion , But very early I realized that the distortion sound came from the whole amp, including the power amp. Out
finally distortion created with the preamp was only 50% of what I wanted. Preamp [blades] very good for clean sounds, but for other stuff-I do not know. Of course, other people only do brilliant things with preamps, but I only get happy with a complete amp.
G & B: In recent years, you have also dealt with the topic of "volume reduction".
[PROOFREAD]
A.H .: This old load box was only used to reduce the volume of the turned-on amp. I even own the first model of that time. My new device also simulates the frequency-dependent impedance behavior of a loudspeaker. The amp signal picked up at the speaker output comes out of my device as a line level, so it simply turns a complete amp into a preamp. On this signal I can then Hall, an ES, etc. give. The top does not have to be connected to a speaker. I've been working on that for many years, and now it sounds really good.
G & B: Which amplifiers do you use to make the signal "audible" again?
A.H .: With the power amps, which then control the speakers, I experimented a lot, i.a. I use a Mesa / Boogie power amp. Of course, with my device, I do not necessarily need a tube power amp anymore; actually I would prefer a hi-fi amplifier, because the actual sound is already when it comes to the power amplifier. After all, I just want to reproduce the created sound just like you do with the monitors in a studio's listening room. My device has no speaker simulation, no equalizer function, so I can not play directly into the desk. It's just for live work, so the sound has to be taken off the speakers. This is of course possible at very low volume, with very good sound. For recordings, please proceed as follows: The loudspeaker, whose signal is picked up via microphone, is not mounted in a housing but on a rack, so it hangs practically free in the room; the recording mike is very close to the membrane. My amp setting looks like this: the bass are completely under-controlled, and the center, treble and volume controls are in the 1 o'clock position.
G & B: Which amplifiers do you currently play?
A.H .: I've been using amps from Mesa / Boogie for about four years, but when we're on tour, I often have to deal with the equipment I'm being asked. Sometimes I also play two Fender Twin Reverbs for the clean sound and two Marshalls for the distorted stuff. I used a lot of rack equipment some years ago, but I do not use that anymore. I reduced everything as much as possible. What I still use today are two Intellifexes, a Lexicon Alex and an equalizer. At home I play a boogie-top plus box for the lead sound and two combos for that Rhythm things; I like to take the satellites 60s, they are incredibly clean and I like that. Celestion Speakers are in all boogies - I've never actually used other speakers.
I used to have two racks that were really as big as refrigerators. They are still in England and I would like to bring them over. Maybe this will work out for the next tour, otherwise the freight costs are simply too high for me. But I get along well with the small setup, because it sounds easy. Many people do not want to understand that the guitar and the amp make the sound and not the other technical Equipment. I'm happy, because sounds better and I have less to tow. If we go to a concert somewhere, it just costs too much money to bring my own equipment. I always have only a small MXR compressor, which I use as a preamp for clean sounds; I then use it to control the two Intellifexes, and then the signals go into the amps, which I put on the stage. While this may not sound as good as my own amp, it does work reasonably well. Now I can put everything I need in a small toolbox (hardware store, DM 29.80, the author) and can take it everywhere. Occasionally, I also use a TC booster, but only in the clean function. The pickups on my guitars have a very low output, and the booster then brings them roughly to the level of super-distortion pickups. I do not like the sound of high-output pickups. Then I use for some time the Mesa / Boogie V-Twin, a tube preamp with which you can also go directly to the desk. (Holdsworth occasionally played on one of his guitars, without the amp, during the conversation. And it was more than amazing how authentic his sound came over, you had the feeling that even this unplugged version contained everything that made the musician's singularity unique. His secret is obviously called "solid handcraft", with a perfect mix of battered notes, subtle hammerings and slurs, where two-handed hand with its perfect attack control is just as important as the fast-paced fingerboard runs).
G & B: The interaction between head and fingers is probably more important to you than a particular guitar or amplifier.
A.H .: For some people, the equipment means way too much, I just see it as my tool. The sound really starts in the mind of a musician, and maybe even so much that it works in practice. Of course, the right tools will help you with that, but they are not the most important.
G & B: Let's still come to the guitars you play today
A.H .: They came from a Californian named Bill Delap, got them made for me. Bill lives in Monterey. I own two guitars from him, which differ only very slightly from each other. The design of his instruments is based on that of Steinberger. By the way, all the guitars I play have passive systems and custom pickups by Seymour Duncan. The hardware comes mostly from Steinberger: Trans-Trem, nut, etc. With the vibrato, however, i put on little. I especially like the sound of alder wood, [???] Necks and ebony fingerboards.
G & B: What about the Baritone guitars, do you still use them?
A.H .: I owned two of these instruments, but sold them, I exchanged. For that I got a SynthAxe; it had sold a few years ago until I missed it. I also only used the baritone guitar on some tracks, most recently at Wardenclyffe Tower. It had a 38’’ scale and was very difficult to play; but that sounded exceptionally good.
G & B: Which picks do you use?
A.H .: Big Jim Dunlop picks, 1mm thick. I think the plectrum is relatively far back and the thickness and material make it still very quiet. They produce no unwanted noise when attack
G & B: How did you adjust the string position of your guitars?
A.H .: Very low. I therefore have to work with a relatively light, careful stop technique.
G & B: Do you often switch between picking and finger picking?
A.H .: Only occasionally. The chord playing mostly with the fingers. What I never do is combine pick and fingers.
G & B: And at what position do you strike [???] strings while playing the plectrum?
A.H .: I try to strike pretty close between the two pickups; I mainly use the bridge pickup. I only use the neck pickup for chords. With the many pickups, that's a thing of the past: the more pickups on a guitar, the more the magnetic fields prevent the string from swinging in unaffected.
G & B: Do you create the fade-ins of chords with the knob on the guitar?
A.H .: No, I do not know that. For this I use a volume pedal. I need my hand on the strings.
G & B: Which strings are you using?
A.H .: Libell-Strings, 008 gauge. But that also depends on the instrument. I also played 009 and 010 strings, eg. On the Charvel, which I had some time ago. With the thin 008s, I could only make friends when I switched to the Steinberger design. These guitars I have 25.5’’ necks, I can not play short scales, a Gibson feels like a toy to me.
G & B: Your hands also look relatively large at: 18 [???]
A.H .: They are not that big. Where this rumor comes from, I do not know (laughs). Your fingers are twice as long as mine. I have very thin wrists, so hands may look bigger than they are. My palm is big, but the fingers are really not very long. However, I have learned to stretch them very far. When I started playing, I knew a classical guitarist who tuned her instrument by playing the note "E" on all strings: so she also hit on the A string, the D string and the H string, that with very small hands. At that time I realized that the size of the hands does not matter much. It's more about flexibility.
G & B: Is there any special training you can do to keep your hands moving, stretching exercises etc.?
A.H .: No, I just play every day.
G & B: And then do you only deal with your music, or do you also play purely technical exercises?
A.H .: I actually practice more. I play my compositions only when I prepare for a tour, and then I have to learn everything again and again. I practice and improvise at home. And whenever I get to the point of constantly playing the same things, I deal with scales or similar. But when I'm comfortable with what I do, I just play it.
G & B: What does it look like when you start a solo live: is this a thing that starts in the head, so it's clearly thought out?
A.H .: No, I never know exactly what will happen. Of course I know the chords, the arrangements, but I never know what I'm going to do (laughs), of course I'm thinking about chords and scales, but I always try to be as innovative as I can with what I play. I think about other, new melodic lines; maybe how I can come from one chord to another on a new path.
G & B: Does it happen that you surprise youself, that you for example discover new ways through "mistakes"?
A.H .: Not really. Do you know if a sound is wrong or right, it just depends on whether you want to play that sound at this moment too. I do not even care if a certain note fits harmoniously or not - it is only correct if you want to use it consciously. Of course, when improvising or trying to implement a certain idea, I totally miss it. But that's just the way to improvise, that's fun.
G & B: Surprising things happen more in the interaction, in the interaction of the musicians or in the friction between the soloist and the accompanist?
A.H .: Exactly, that's it. I get a lot from the other musicians.
G & B: I saw you a few years ago in Germany at a festival that included "Marc Johnson Bass Desirees" with guitarists John Scofield and Bill Frisell. At that time, I wondered which guitarist you could work with in a band. Have you ever had similar thoughts?
A.H .: I've thought about it several times before, but what kept turning me away from the idea of a two-guitar band was that I did not know who the second man would be. And then it often happens that a war breaks out when two guitarists are supposed to play together (laughs), and I do not like that, because that leads away from the music. I do not want to think about "war" or anything like that when I make music, you understand? Sure, with the right guitarist together, that would be an excellent thing. It's been a very long time since I even played with another guitarist in a band.
G & B: Was that Ollie Halsall at Tempest?
A.H .: No, I did not mean it now. I only played with Ollie a couple of times, I was just about to leave the band, he was new to the band. So that was just a short phase before I switched to Soft Machine. (Tempest drummer) Jon Hiseman is very magical, a great person and a drummer, but at that time I did not want to go the musical path that he had in mind. Jon tended more to rock, more towards that, like all the others sounded. I thought that Tempest was a really good band that could develop. Jon always told me not to play that much. Well, maybe I played too much back then too. But that's over-the-top subject, because in comparison I did not play anything at all during this phase (laughs). The most recent thing is that you can not squeeze more notes into a bar at all than most guitars do. That's crazy. Yes, with Ollie, that was just a short phase. The other day I read that he died. Sad.
G & B: Ollie Halsall I saw in the band of Kevin Ayers two years ago. He was also one of the guitarists who prefer very flowing lines. There was already something "related" to your way of playing.
A.H .: The amazing thing is that when I was playing in this top 40 band in the north of England back then, on Fridays a special guest from London appeared in the larger hall below our club. If they then came to check us out, we have always played some instrumentals to stand up well. At that time, some keyboarder from London came to me and said, "Last night we played together in a London club with a band whose guitarist sounded like you and he had the same guitar." This was the first time I heard of Ollie Halsall. At that time he also played with this Legato technique. And that is also a much more normal thing than people think when there are such matches. For me, there was something like that. Also between Ollie and Eddie Van Halen; I was always able to hear some kind of kinship at a certain level, even though the musical styles are certainly very different. And I do not think Eddie heard anything about Ollie Halsall in Van Halen's early days. He just had the same kind of attitude, of mindset he just played that way because he liked it without consciously thinking about it. Somehow these guys are probably more fun than me. I always hang on every note, always thinking anxiously about where everything is going. And with some of these other people, just seems to be more fun on the move. The sound then affects less sounds less affected?]. Well, Eddie has a great sound, but other guitarists I do not want to call play that fantastic and sometimes sound so bad, oaarhhh! I can not imagine how they can play well with it. That would not work for me. If I do not feel good about everything, it will be very difficult for me.
G & B: Which album did you listen to, did you have a good feeling?
A.H .: Do you mean an album by someone else? I usually do not listen to my records. Yes, (considering) I like this Japan CD by Claus Ogerman and Michael Brecker, City Scapes, this is a great album. But I really do not listen to many things. The people from my band [...]. Our bassist Skuli Sverrisson, a great young musician, is different. Skuli has headphones all day and exercises 24 hours a day - (grinning) the way I should. (Laughing). He practices while I'm having a drink. That's actually all you should know about me: I'm so lazy Skuli always has tons of CDs of other musicians, from people I do not know at all. (Drummer) Gary Husband also listens a lot. I'm more influenced by the fact that I think about music for myself, so I do not necessarily have to hear that. That's a crazy feeling, I can not describe it. Sometimes I think that so much music is just in the air. All I have to do is find a way to make something out of it. So do not get me wrong, I like listening to other people making music. But I'm more involved than many other musicians in simply playing, writing, learning - and doing my stuff I also discover new things again and again. Every time I realize that the next thing I'm working on will be more difficult than what I'm doing right now. Every year, I learn new things, and at the same time, the feeling of becoming less and less aware of what is really possible increases. And this process does not end: Even after 25 years, I know next to nothing. And that's what keeps me alive. But I can not imagine in the deepest depths of my head what it's like to be absolutely happy and content with what you're doing right now. I just can not imagine it.
G & B: But you have reason enough to be happy sometimes?
A.H .: I'm happy to be involved with music, to play music, to work with great musicians, I'm also looking forward to playing, always just playing. But that does not always work, and then I'm disappointed, then I'm looking forward to the next chance, take it true, hate what I'm doing, looking forward to the next try, etc. I just try to go my way. Maybe someday I will come to the point where I find my things bearable - I do not really like them at all. I just want to be able to say to myself. Okay, that was not so bad what you did. And then I will feel good.
G & B: On the other hand, you must also have realized that you give something positive to other people with your music?
A.H .: I know that, too, and it makes me feel a lot when people say that to me. This is the greatest thing a musician can wish to touch emotionally with his music. Although I never know how it works, because this is a very own language with an unlimited vocabulary. People hear certain notes, but each note, how it is played, etc., means something specific to a particular person. This may be a grunge guitar or an intense solo by Michael Brecker or Keith Jarrett - and on the other hand: even though a musician's musical vocabulary may be light-years away from that of another musician, it is possible that both touch people equally. You know, I like it when musicians play crazy, ridiculous things that make me laugh. Vinnie Colaiuta can do that, he plays some incredible stuff on his drums, and then I can do nothing but laugh. And that's great.
G & B: This somewhat uncertain trait is also clear in the opening credits of a "teaching video" by you. You stress that you do not understand yourself as a teacher because you are not sure if what you do is really right.
A.H .: To clarify this matter: I see some people teaching music, which in my opinion have no right to do so. They know nothing and should not teach anything. Sometimes they also teach their students things that I think are wrong. On the other hand, there are people like Peter Erskine, a fantastic drummer and teacher, where everything makes sense to me for what he says. What I do has such a strong self-reference, it is very specific, just because I want to develop myself with my own music. Therefore, I have no right to say that would be important and right for other people. Making music and teaching are two very different things. Some people can do that, but they do not. And another thing about my video: In an hour you can not summarize what you have learned in a lifetime. At that time there was also a book on this video that was supposed to clarify a lot. But when I later saw the finished tape, noticed I did, that some things came across incomprehensibly.
I just can not imagine being a teacher; I basically do not like that idea. Just because I'm convinced that I know so little, little of what is worth knowing and possible - how can I get that to someone? I can only try to show how I approach it, how I see chords and scales, and why modes do not make sense to me at all. That said, that's just my personal point of view. Also, the relationships between chords and scales are not those taught in schools. But I just think that this is wrong, because for me according to this doctrine does not always work. Perhaps all of this comes from this early period of music theory when it was said that this chord is akin to that and the chord should only come after that. But when the whole harmony evolved in a more complicated direction, it did not work that easy anymore. It's like a mathematical formula that you want to change if it does not work anymore because of certain insights or realities. At some point you realize that it can not work that way. And then you go back to the very beginning and develop a completely new formula. That's exactly what I wanted, and I did that for myself. My dad had a very traditional education, so he occasionally taught me. But after playing for a few years, I realized that these things made no sense to me. And when I went back to the very beginning, I realized that I could not use any of the rules I had learned, the same as in general musicology; they did not make sense to me anymore. If you think about Modes for example.: A conventional scale has so many sounds and a corresponding number of modes. But what do you do if you have a scale that goes over two octaves - what is the second mode, how do you deal with it, how do you call these modes? There are also many overlaps with traditional scales and modes - why is that? This is nonsense! It does not matter if two scales begin with different tones if they are structured the same way. On the guitar, you can see very well how scales are different from each other, which happens before the eyes on the fingerboard. At first, like everyone else, I played only in patterns and dress small groups of tones, but now I think differently about it, and that shows many possibilities. I'm not very good at it yet and feel at the very beginning but that's a way. If I have a Cmaj7 before me, I never think about a particular voicing or a special reversal [inversion?] to. I think about what notes might fit to this tone, which I could use to overlay it; depending on which chord came before and which follows. So I'm just trying to think melodiously. But what I wanted to say is just: I can not tell anyone what's right and what's wrong, because I'm only interested in how I see myself (laughs). So, that was a two-hour lecture.
G & B: Then We Come Back to Practice. When I heard your album "Hard Hat Area", I found that it still sounds very European, even though [???] has been living on the West Coast for a long time.
A.H .: Nothing's going to change about that, music is a very geographic issue and comes from the depths of your existence, your background. (Pianist) Joe Zawinul is e.g. I grew up in Europe, and I do not think the move to America has really changed his music. Finally, three people from my band are also Europeans (laughs). And the last thing I wanted to do was a Westcoast record. But I like California.
G & B: Do you make a note of your compositions?
A.H .: No, I never do that. What is important to me, however, are some titles that are an allusion to the images that underlie the music.
G & B: From the mood, some of the new album reminded me of the dreariness and loneliness that the Norwegian guitarist Terje Rypdal expresses in his music. I hear a juxtaposition of "organization" or "structure" and "loneliness".
A.H .: That's maybe true. After all, it does not really matter how many people and friends you meet, who you love and who you care about: "You come alone and you walk alone" - that's an old adage, but it also expresses something very frightening. And maybe that's something in my music, too.
G & B: For me, some of your music also has a soundtrack atmosphere, in the sense that it stimulates pictures in my head.
A.H .: I think that's good. When I listen to music, it is like seeing a picture: sometimes I get inspired by the title of the composition, but essentially the music really creates pictures in my head.
G & B: And what does the title "Ruhkukah" from your current album?
A.H.:(laughs). That's a funny thing. A good friend of mine, who died of cancer a few years ago, was such a real woman type - he was really very popular with the ladies. And ["Ruhkukah"] was one of his personal paraphrases for "making love", with a lot of emphasis on the sound, the pronunciation. He was a jolly fellow, roundly thought of him as I wrote the piece.
G & B: The frame of the album tracks is a "Prelude" and a "Postlude, What's in it?
A.H .: Both are spontaneous improvisations, without prefabricated idea or concept. Therefore, there were no titles for it.
G & B: You also recorded the other tracks mostly live in the studio. How significant was the share of over dubs?
A.H .: There were not many, but I always play a few overdubs. What we tried on this album was to play a lot of the material live before we even went to the studio, and that made a big difference. We used to come to the recording sessions with new music and had not played anything at the same time. That's why we immediately recorded everything, and only if one of us was not satisfied with his part, he could re-record it.
Above all, I always care that the bassist and the drummer are satisfied with their parts. Our keyboarder Steve (Hunt) and I can still do some messing, but with the rhythm section this is different. If I've played a good solo and they do not like their part, then we just have to record everything again; in the opposite case, you can iron it out. We have always recorded the basic tracks very fast, in three or four days. Then I start fiddling around with it and I mix the shots - that can take ages, because that's what I do at home, which is very cost effective. I do not own a tape machine myself, so I rent a device and get away with it much more cheaply than if I went to a mixing studio. And if later a keyboard or bass solo has to be recorded, we do it here as well.
G & B: Which of your records can you recommend to young musicians who want to get to know your music?
A.H .: Recommend (laughs)? Yeah, of course I like the new album very much because it sounds very organic again and has some of the spirit of the older, I.O.U. "album. I like that. Some other albums I find less closed, it involved different bands, we worked in different studios etc. On Wardencyffe Tower was some music I liked, but I do not like the whole album. My favorites would be maybe "Hard Hat Area" and Secrets "
G & B: And what about records you recorded as a guest musician? I'm thinking of "Believe It" from Lifetime ...
A.H .: Exactly in this album I recently listened to it. A friend arrived with a CD summarizing "Believe It" and Million Dollar Legs". And I could not hear that, the guitar sounded so lame, unbelievable, but you have to figure out when that was, and so I can not recommend a record to anyone today that is ten years old, and that music would have to be experienced just to make it out.
G & B: That's 18 years ago, by the way.
AH: Yes? Maybe. Clearly, that's a long time. Time is flowing!
G & B: What interests you besides the music?
A.H .: Cycling, I love that. And beer I like to drink beer.
G & B: There is a rumor that you own a brewery.
A.H .: (grinning) No, that's not true. Earlier, in England, I have tried to brew beer, but there are so many great beers whose quality you can not reach as a layman. These brewmasters have a tradition that is hundreds of years old, and when I put together a few things there will never be a good beer (laughs). It's like buying a guitar and wanting to sound like John McLaughlin in two days. That just does not work. However, I have some English vacuum hand pumps for beer beer, which I have imported myself. I do not like beer, which is carbonated, which the Americans do very much. With the hand pump tapped then disappears the carbon dioxide, and the beer tastes. These rumors are probably due to the fact that I call my studio "The Brewery" (laughing). But really no beer is produced here.
After the interview, Allan wanted to go even closer to his hobby. So we went to a pub near his house, where you could watch through a glass screen, how the in-house beer was brewed. And although Allan knew this location, there was a radiance in his eyes at the sight of the shiny brewing kettle. Holdsworth is a fanatic in the best sense of the word, someone who is in love with the matter, no matter whether it's about music or hops and malt. Because he also had a lot to tell about "beer", and then he did not hesitate to take home a few full pots, where he introduced me to the already mentioned English pump in action. And tasted great. Cheers!
Just as excited as Holdsworth is to tell about his preferences, he is so modest and reserved about his own person. Apart from very few friends, nobody around him realizes that he is one of the most important, stylistically unique guitarists of the last two decades. His neighbors consider him an occasional musician and hobbyist, in the brewery pub he is a welcome guest - nothing more. On the other hand, his name is a magic word for almost every known guitarist in the world, whose effect is stronger than that of an expensive face-lifting. Carlos Santana, John McLaughlin, Joe Satriani, Steve Vai, Steve Luther, Michael Landau u.v.a. Like the honey cake horses, they looked eighteen years younger when the name "Holdsworth" fell during an interview. A larger live presence of Allan in Germany has been in the past few years always stones in the way; Unfortunately, a tour scheduled for October and already booked due to strange circumstances did not arrive. It remains to be hoped that this will change in the near future. Because this musician deserves it.
Lothar Trampert
ChatGPT version, sept 2023
If one were to create a Top Ten list of the most innovative electric guitarists since the development of this instrument, Allan Holdsworth would undoubtedly deserve one of the top chart positions. Because, to be honest, there haven't been that many musicians who could simultaneously create an individual playing style, new sonic concepts, and distinct recognizability on their six strings.
A. Holdsworth was born on August 6, 1948, in Yorkshire, England, and grew up in Bradford, an industrial city in the North. His father, Sam, was a pianist but primarily earned his living as a salesman in a department store. Allan himself never received formal musical education; his later development was largely influenced by the music he heard in his childhood home: big-band jazz by Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw, but also records by trumpeter Bix Beiderbecke and saxophonist and bebop giant Charlie Parker were part of his father's collection. Besides other horn players, including John Coltrane and Julian "Cannonball" Adderley, initially, there was only one guitarist who interested Allan: Charlie Christian. Due to his preference for saxophonists, Allan only picked up the guitar relatively late, at the age of 17. More about his further artistic development in the following interview.
Allan Holdsworth now lives with his wife and three children in the famously rain-starved South of California. In addition to his house, he has set up a small studio in a garage, which, according to his own statements, has been under construction for years. Good equipment, as is well known, costs quite a bit, and despite his high standing in the world of musicians, Allan has never been one of those who earned more than they needed to live.
Holdsworth is, on the one hand, a very reserved, almost shy person, but at the same time, he is full of kindness and helpfulness. "Give me a call before you head out," he said on the phone, "I'll pick you up from the train station." So, as agreed, two hours later, we were sitting in his studio surrounded by guitars, amps, and effects pedals. We were ready to get started.
G&B: How did it come about that you immigrated to the USA a few years ago?
A.H.: After working with Bill Bruford, that was around the late 70s, I finally wanted to put together my own band. I had always been a member of other musicians' bands and now I wanted to realize my ideas because I already had a bunch of compositions in the drawer. Back then, I met drummer Gary Husband, and we got along wonderfully. We spent quite some time looking for a bass player and eventually found Paul Carmichael. Then we had the problem of not getting proper gigs and mostly played in some London pubs in front of fifteen people. A friend of mine, singer Paul Williams, lived in California at the time, and through him, we got three gigs via Mike Varney (now the head of Shrapnel Records, the editor). Mike was a kind of fan of ours, and he had persuaded a club owner in San Francisco to book us. For me and the band, it was an incredible thing because the place was packed! Every night, over 500 people showed up, and in London, it had really been only 15 before. I didn't understand it at first, but then I realized that there was indeed an audience for our music. And since I had occasionally seen my name in American magazines at the time, I decided to stay in the USA. In England, I saw no way to survive as a musician; If I had stayed, I would have surely given up this job. Sure, I would have continued to play the guitar, but not as a professional. So, that was the reason for my move.
G&B: You haven't taken many studio jobs in recent years alongside your own productions.
A.H.: No, currently, I'm not doing anything in that direction.
G&B: Is it because you fundamentally don't want to, or is it due to a lack of offers?
A.H.: No, I don't want to. I'm not good at doing something that other people dictate to me. I wouldn't be a good soldier either. I prefer doing my own things. Of course, it's not easy because I can't make money just by working on my music. It's already okay if we can go on tour for a while. But in the months I spend at home, it can be quite tough financially. But that's okay. Over all these years, I've acquired a lot of equipment, so maybe in ten years, I'll own enough stuff to produce my music completely on my own and won't have to rely on record companies anymore. Then things would look quite different.
G&B: Michael Landau told me that for him, there's a clear distinction between his own music and studio work. It seems like you can't imagine living such a dual life.
A.H.: I don't think so. Often, when I played for other people, they didn't end up using my contribution and brought someone else in afterward. They would always call and tell me, "We like the way you play and want you to contribute your thing to this song. Do exactly what you imagine." Later on, they would realize they didn't like it. Actually, most of the time, they want you to do something that you don't believe in. I'm also not interested in this kind of work for another important reason: I've met a lot of people, great musicians, who came into the studio scene but couldn't find their way out later. Because if you make a lot of money with it, it's not easy to get away from that lifestyle when you want to realize your own music. And since I never had much money, I got used to it. Of course, it gradually got better over time, and I like it more than suddenly getting rich with something I don't like and then not being able to get away from it. All I want to do is play, and these studio jobs are not always necessarily music to me. Sure, I also do odd jobs when I build electronic devices for people, which always brings in some money when we're not on tour, as was the case in the past few months. But I'd rather build some device for someone than play something in the studio for other people that I don't believe in.
G&B: But you were heard on the second-to-last album by Level 42. How did you come to that decision?
A.H.: That was a few years ago. Gary Husband was with Level 42 at the time, and their guitarist suddenly passed away. They then asked me if I could come to England to record some solos. I knew they were all very nice guys, so I did it. I helped them out while they were looking for a new guitarist - it was an exceptional situation. And it didn't really have the typical session atmosphere; I felt somewhat integrated into the band context.
G&B: Tempest, Soft Machine, Lifetime, Jean-Luc Ponty, UK, Gong, Bill Bruford - these are probably the most important bands and musicians you've worked with. Looking back, which phase was the most significant for you?
A.H.: They were all important, each band in its own time. They were all equally significant to me, and I enjoyed all of them for different reasons. Perhaps UK was the least enjoyable for me. I really liked working with Bill (Bruford, the drummer of UK) – on his solo albums, especially on the second one, "One Of A Kind," I felt most like being in a band. Before that, it was more like sessions.
G&B: But the collaboration with U.K. itself didn't go so well?
A.H.: No, it wasn't great. They are all very nice people, I still like them, and I'm happy to see them when I do. But there was a kind of musical incompatibility; we never wanted to do what each individual wanted to do together. It was actually Eddie's band (violinist/keyboardist Eddie Jobson), and he and (singer/bassist) John Wetton saw things in their own way. Bill stood in the middle, and I was at the completely opposite end (grins). I really wasn't a good fit for that band, I think today. I could change things, play everything differently, but it never had an impact on the other musicians. It was like playing with a machine, and that drove me crazy. For example, when I play with Gary Husband, I get a reaction to every little thing I do. I like that organic thing, but in U.K., there was no life in that regard - it was dead, it was pasteurized music. There was no room for improvisation, and they expected me to play the same solos live as on the record. I can't do that because it goes against everything I believe in (laughs). It's not a solo if it's not improvised!
G&B: Was it different in Jean-Luc Ponty's band?
A.H.: Oh yes, I could play my solos the way I wanted to there. Of course, I had to learn the compositions, but I always had my freedom.
G&B: Perhaps Jean-Luc Ponty is more of a jazz musician than his fusion albums from the late seventies would suggest.
A.H.: I think he's great, and many people simply underestimate him. I saw him on stage, and it was fascinating. That time was a lot of fun for me, also because I liked him as a person very much.
G&B: Have you ever worked with Miles Davis or Frank Zappa? I imagine the combination with you would have been interesting.
A.H.: No, I met Frank through Chad Wackerman, who worked with him. Frank was very good to me; he helped me a lot. He was always very generous in supporting me, and I really miss him. What I loved about him was that he was someone you looked up to in many ways, not just as a musician. He was an organizer of his life; he dealt with record companies and got the best out of everything. I thought that was great. He was a guy like Clint Eastwood, someone who did everything his own way without being deeply involved in the business – and with success. Frank Zappa was successful with what he did, and it was all his own doing. I admire that, even though I can't do it myself; I think differently. But I would really like to get to the point where I can live well in my own world like that, without ever having to step out of it. My own little Disneyland, that would be great (laughs).
G&B: I mentioned Miles Davis earlier, as he also greatly admired you as a guitarist.
A.H.: I didn't know that back then. Then, at some point, I received a call from his manager or one of his musicians, asking if I wanted to play with him. And of course, I wanted to! But at that exact time, I already had a tour scheduled with my own band, and I was in a total conflict. I couldn't possibly cancel that tour because I didn't want to let my fellow musicians down. So, I believe he didn't call me again after that (laughs). But it would have been a great experience.
G&B: Who is your favorite among the Miles Davis guitarists?
A.H.: Oh, I like them all. I think each of them was great: John McLaughlin, Mike Stern, John Scofield – they are all more than fantastic.
G&B: Is there any guitarist you feel has influenced you?
A.H.: I think everyone has influenced me. There are many musicians, not just guitarists, whom I like. In a way, everything I like influences me. When I heard John Scofield and John McLaughlin, I found them both very inspiring, each in their own way. But I never wanted to analyze or delve deeper into it. I take it as it is: something I hear and like. That's also my benchmark for quality. I accept the high standard of these musicians and try to achieve a high level in my own way, without doing what others have already done. I aim to reach that level of quality in my music. Whether I can measure up to these musicians whom I truly find impressive, I don't know. That remains to be seen.
G&B: You once said in an interview that there are many recordings you were involved in that you're ashamed of. John Scofield told me the same thing recently.
A.H.: That's true. There are quite a few recordings where I don't like the way I played or the music itself. It's just part of being a musician, I guess. You have to take the good with the bad. Sometimes you make mistakes or end up in situations where you're not entirely comfortable, and that can result in recordings you're not proud of. But it's all part of the journey, and I try to focus on the positive experiences and the music I'm proud of.
I.H.: Yeah, that's a dreadful feeling, the worst feeling in the world. Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who don't care about what the artist says and wants – bootleggers, producers who just want to make some lousy record. A good example of that is my album "Velvet Darkness," which has always been terrible: the way it was made, no one had a fair chance to listen to the recordings in the control room, and so on. Plus, it was a big financial rip-off for all the musicians involved. At first, they told me the album wouldn't be released, and I thought, "Great, I'm rid of that worry." Then, suddenly, various bootleggers released these recordings, and then the worst thing happened: a major company, Epic Records, re-released these recordings, just at a time when all seven albums I had recorded and was really proud of were no longer available! I went to the stores, and the only record I found of mine was "Velvet Darkness." You know, when things like that happen, I just tell myself, "Screw it!" and want to throw everything away, find a job, and just ride my bike. This aspect of the music business is so sick; it's all about money, everything boils down to money.
G&B: And you didn't earn anything from that album?
I.H.: No! Not a penny. But my lawyer chased after them, and the album was taken out of circulation. That's why I can understand people like John Scofield when they say they can't bear to listen to some recordings anymore. Of course, there are things that I don't like as much today, after a long time, as when I recorded them – that's different. But when it comes to "Velvet Darkness," it's absolutely impossible for me to listen to it now.
G&B: You expressed similar negative feelings about your recordings with drummer John Stevens.
I.H.: No, I really don't like those. Because in this case, he was the weak link himself. We actually just wanted to make an album, I think it was called "Touching On," and he doesn't play proper compositions; instead, we all improvised spontaneously. Anyone who has tried that knows that sometimes it can be very good, but sometimes it can be extremely bad. After we had recorded some of these improvisations, all the musicians involved decided together which passages should be on the album and which should not – we were in quick agreement. And what did John Stevens do? He made some deal and used everything, even the stuff we never wanted to release! You know, that's just
I.H.: Yeah, that's inexcusable because he was one of us; he was a musician who did that! If it had been someone from the record company, maybe I could have swallowed it, but he was one from the band. I hope I never have anything to do with him again; I don't want to encounter him. (laughs) At least not in the next few years.
G&B: Let's talk about more pleasant matters. Joe Satriani, in a conversation for a workshop series in this magazine, mentioned how important you were to his musical development.
I.H.: Oh, really?
G&B: He mentioned, among other things, how crucial "Believe It" by the Tony Williams Lifetime, with you as the guitarist, influenced him (see G&B, issue 2/94, author's note). One key point was that he found in your style of playing the model for developing and realizing his own ideas.
I.H.: Oh, that's great. I'm very pleased to hear that. We only met a few times briefly.
G&B: Let's go back to your beginnings: before you earned your living exclusively as a musician, you were a regular worker.
I.H.: I've had a lot of jobs, and even after I focused on music, I often worked on the side. (laughs) Those wonderful eight-hour jobs.
G&B: Can you recall when your guitar playing began to show that distinctive flowing character that is now your trademark?
A.H.: So, around that time. I didn't start playing too early. I've always loved music, and I grew up in a very musical environment because my father constantly played records by outstanding musicians, which I always listened to. I've loved music since I was three or four years old, ever since I sat in front of that old record player and explored my father's collection. On the other hand, I never had much interest in becoming a musician; that came about more by chance. I always noodled around on a guitar we had at home, but back then, I actually wanted to play the saxophone. However, my parents couldn't afford such an instrument. When I was 17, I finally picked up the guitar for good, and when I was 19 or 20, some friends asked me if I wanted to play in their bands. That's when I started to focus more on the instrument. I played in a Top-40 band in England for about three years, and that was my first opportunity to work professionally. They paid me good money, I think it was £25 per week, which was a lot. I used to earn only £13 or £14 per week at the factory, so with the band job, I could practice every day and still make more money than before. It was during this phase, around 1969/70, just before I played with Tempest, that I heard things in my playing for the first time that I had always wanted to hear. Before that, I always sounded exactly the opposite of what I wanted, and it was a constant struggle.
G&B: Back then, were you playing a Strat or a Gibson SG?
A.H.: It was a red SG Standard, and afterward, I had a white SG Custom. The Strat came later. I also had a Vox AC30, and then I played through a massive 8x10" cabinet with a Marshall JCM 45, or whatever it was called. But I later converted that into an equally large 4x12" cabinet, which sounded very good. I played the SG and the Marshall for a long time, even with Tony Williams. Shortly before I started working with Jean-Luc Ponty, I experimented with humbuckers on a Stratocaster, which worked very well, and today, almost everyone does that. (grins) That's like a thousand years ago, I think sometimes.
G&B: Going back to your "signature" style: when did you first consciously hear a sustain-rich, distorted guitar tone?
A.H.: I'm not exactly sure anymore. Of course, back then, I was aware of people like Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton playing with that kind of sound, but it wasn't precisely the tone I had in mind. The approach probably came from there, I think: a lot of sustain, etc. I've always been interested in amplifiers; already in late '68, I developed some devices that allowed me to lower the sound in front of the speakers and play with a cranked, distorted amp at a moderate volume. Fender amps, by the way, didn't appeal to me at that time precisely because they didn't distort as much. I was very interested in that area, always wanting to know what's behind it. So I worked with some people who modified amplifiers, saw what they were doing, read books about tube amps, learned various tricks, and eventually built my own preamps, which I placed in front of my amplifiers to get a bit more input and distortion. But very early on, I realized that the distortion sound I liked came from the entire amp, including the power amp.
G&B: Which power amps do you use to make the signal audible again?
A.H.: I've experimented a lot with power amps that drive the speakers, including using a Mesa/Boogie power amp. Together with my device, I don't necessarily need a tube power amp anymore. Ideally, I'd like to use a hi-fi amplifier because the actual sound is already there when it goes into the power amp. So, I want to reproduce the created sound, similar to how you would use monitors in a studio control room. However, my device doesn't have speaker simulation or equalization functions, so I can't directly feed it into the mixing console. It's intended solely for live work, and the sound ultimately needs to be captured by speakers. This can be done at a very low volume with excellent sound quality.
For recording, I approach it as follows: The speaker, from which the signal is captured by a microphone, is not enclosed in a cabinet but mounted on a stand, essentially hanging freely in the room. The recording microphone is placed very close to the speaker's diaphragm. My amp settings for recording typically look like this: I turn the bass completely down, and the mid, treble, and volume knobs are set at the 1 o'clock position.
G&B: What amplifiers are you currently using?
A.H.: I've been using Mesa/Boogie amps for about four years now, but when we're on tour, I often have to work with the equipment provided to me. So, I sometimes play two Fender Twin Reverbs for the clean sound and two Marshalls for the distorted stuff. A few years ago, I used a lot of rack equipment, but I don't use it anymore. I've reduced everything as much as possible. What I still use today are two Intellifexes, a Lexicon Alex, and an equalizer. At home, I play a Boogie head plus a cabinet for the lead sound and two combos for rhythm parts. I particularly like using the Satellite 60s for their incredibly clean sound. All my Boogie amps have Celestion speakers; I've never really used anything else. I used to have two racks that were as big as refrigerators. They are still in England, and I would like to bring them over. Maybe that will work out after the next tour, as shipping costs are just too high right now. But I get along great with the small setup because it sounds good. Many people don't understand that the guitar and the amp make the sound, not the other technical devices. I'm happy with it because it sounds better, and I have less to carry. When we fly to a concert, it costs too much to bring my own equipment. I always have a small Mär compressor with me, which I use as a preamp for clean sounds. I control the two Intellifex units with it, and then the signals go into the amps provided on stage. It doesn't sound as good as my own amps, but it works reasonably well. I can now fit everything I need into a small toolbox (hardware store, DM 29.80), so I can take it with me anywhere. Occasionally, I also use a TC Booster, but only in the clean mode. The pickups on my guitars have very low output, and the booster brings them up to approximately the level of Super Distortion pickups. I don't like the sound of high-output pickups. I've also been using the Mesa/Boogie V-Twin, a tube preamp that can be used directly into the mixing console, for some time now.
(Note: The interviewer mentioned that during the conversation, Holdsworth occasionally played one of his guitars without an amp. Even unplugged, his sound was astonishingly authentic, conveying all the uniqueness that defines him as a musician. His secret evidently lies in "solid craftsmanship" with a perfect mix of plucked notes, subtle hammer-ons, and slurs, where both hands with their perfect attack control are just as important as the rapid fretboard runs.)
G&B: It seems like the interaction between your mind and fingers is much more important to you than a specific guitar or amplifier.
A.H.: For some people, equipment means way too much, but I see it as just my tool. The sound truly begins in a musician's mind, and maybe it eventually works in practice. Of course, having the right tools helps, but they are not the most important thing.
G&B: Nevertheless, let's talk about the guitars you play today.
A.H.: They were built by a Californian named Bill Delap. He made them for me. Bill lives in Monterey. I own two guitars made by him, and they are very similar. The design of his instruments is based on the Steinberger style. All the guitars I play have passive systems and custom pickups by Seymour Duncan. Most of the hardware is from Steinberger: the Trans-Trem, nut, etc. I don't use the vibrato much. I particularly like the sound of Alder wood, maple necks, and ebony fretboards.
G&B: What about the Baritone Gintaras, do you still use it?
A.H.: I had two of those instruments, but I sold them or traded them in. In return, I got a SynthAxe because I had sold it a few years ago, only to miss it afterward. I only used the Baritone Guitar on a few tracks, most recently on "Wardenclyffe Tower." It had a 38-inch scale length and was very challenging to play, but it sounded exceptionally good.
G&B: What kind of picks do you use?
A.H.: I use large Jim Dunlop picks, 1mm thick. I hold the pick relatively far back, and due to their thickness and material, they remain quiet and don't produce unwanted noise when struck.
G&B: How do you set up the action on your guitars?
A.H.: Very low. Consequently, I have to work with a relatively light and careful picking technique.
G&B: Do you switch between using a pick and fingerpicking often?
A.H.: Only occasionally. I usually play chords with my fingers. What I never do is the combination of using a pick and fingers together.
G&B: At which pickup position do you strike the strings when using a pick?
A.H.: I try to strike fairly evenly between the two pickups; I mainly use the bridge pickup. I only use the neck pickup for chords. The many pickups on a guitar can be tricky because the more pickups there are, the more the magnetic fields interfere with the free vibration of the strings.
G&B: Do you create fade-ins of chords using the guitar's volume knob?
A.H.: No, I don't do that. Instead, I use a volume pedal. I need my hand on the strings.
G&B: What type of strings do you use?
A.H.: I use Libell-Strings, 008 gauge sets. However, it also depends on the specific instrument. I've used 009 and 010 gauge strings as well, like on the Charvel I had some time ago. I only really got comfortable with the thin 008 gauge strings when I switched to the Steinberger design. These guitars have 25.5-inch scale lengths; I can't play short-scale guitars. A Gibson feels like a toy to me.
G&B: Your hands look relatively large...
A.H.: They're not that big. I don't know where that rumor came from either. (grins) Your fingers are twice as long as mine. I have very thin wrists, so maybe that's why my hands look bigger than they are. My palm is large, but my fingers aren't really very long. However, I've learned to stretch them quite far. When I started playing, I knew a classical guitarist who would tune her guitar by playing the note "E" on all the strings at once: she would fret the A, D, and high E strings simultaneously, and she had very small hands. That's when I realized that hand size doesn't play a big role. It's more about flexibility.
G&B: Do you have a specific training routine to keep your hands flexible, like stretching exercises, etc.?
A.H.: No, I just play every day.
G&B: When you play, do you focus solely on your music, or do you also practice technical exercises?
A.H.: I actually practice more. I only play my compositions when I'm preparing for a tour, and then I have to relearn everything all over again. At home, I practice and improvise. Whenever I find myself playing the same things constantly, I work on scales or something similar. But when I feel comfortable with what I'm doing, I just play and let it flow.
G&B: What about when you start a solo live? Is that something that begins in your mind, thoroughly planned out?
A.H.: No, I never know exactly what will happen. Of course, I know the chords and arrangements, but I never know in advance what I will do. (laughs) I think about chords and scales, but I always try to be as innovative as possible with what I play. I think about different, new melodic lines, perhaps how I can find a new way from one chord to another.
G&B: Do you sometimes surprise yourself during solos, discovering new paths, perhaps even through what might be considered "mistakes"?
A.H.: Not really. You know, whether a note is considered wrong or right depends on whether you wanted to play that note at that moment. I think it doesn't even matter if a certain note fits into a harmonic context or not; it's only right when you intentionally want to use it. Of course, during improvisations or when trying to execute a specific idea, I might make mistakes. But that's part of improvisation; it's fun.
G&B: So, surprising things happen more in the interaction, the interplay among musicians, or the friction between the soloist and the accompanists?
A.H.: Exactly, that's it. I get a lot from the other musicians.
G&B: I saw you perform at a festival in Germany a few years ago, and "Marc Johnson Bass Desires" also performed, featuring the guitarists John Scofield and Bill Frisell. I remember wondering about which guitarist you could collaborate with in a band. Have you ever thought about such possibilities?
A.H.: I have thought about it several times, but what always held me back from the idea of a two-guitar band was that I didn't know who the second guitarist should be. And then, it often happens that a war breaks out when two guitarists play together, (grins) and I don't like that because it takes away from the music. When I make music, I don't want to think about "war" or anything like that, you know? Sure, with the right guitarist, it would be an excellent thing. It has been a very long time since I played with another guitarist in a band.
G&B: Was that Ollie Halsall with Tempest?
A.H.: No, I wasn't referring to him. I only played with Ollie a few times, and I was actually about to leave the band at that time, while he was just joining. It was a brief phase before I moved on to Soft Machine. I have tremendous respect for Jon Hiseman, the drummer for Tempest – a great person and drummer. However, at that time, I didn't want to follow the musical direction he had in mind. Jon tended more towards rock, more towards how everyone else sounded. I thought Tempest was a really good band that had room for development. (grins) Jon would always tell me I shouldn't play so much. Well, maybe I was playing too much back then. But it's a funny topic because compared to today, I played absolutely nothing during that phase (laughs). Today, it's as if you can't fit more notes into a measure than most guitarists do. It's crazy. So, with Ollie, it was only a short phase. I read recently that he passed away. Sad.
G&B: I saw Ollie Halsall in Kevin Ayers' band two years ago. He was also one of the guitarists who preferred very fluid lines. There was some "kinship" with your style of playing.
A.H.: The amazing thing is this: when I was in that Top-40 band in the north of England, there would be special guests from London performing in the larger venue under our club on Fridays. When they came up to check us out, we always played some instrumentals to impress them. One time, some keyboardist from London came up to me and said, "Last night, we played with a band in a London club, and their guitarist sounded exactly like you, and he had the same guitar." That was the first time I heard of Ollie Halsall; he was already using that legato technique back then. It's interesting how there can be such similarities. I found similarities between Ollie and Eddie Van Halen as well. On a certain level, I could always hear a kind of kinship, even though their musical styles are quite different. I don't think Eddie had even heard of Ollie Halsall in the early days of Van Halen. He just had the same kind of approach, the same mentality – he played like that because he liked it, without consciously thinking about it. These guys probably have more fun with it than I do. I'm always hanging on to every note, always thinking anxiously about where everything is going. Some of these other guys seem to have more fun while playing. The sound affects them less. Well, Eddie has a great sound, but other guitarists, whom I won't name, play fantastically and sometimes sound so bad – aaargh! I can't imagine how they can play well with that. It wouldn't work for me. If I don't feel good about everything, it becomes very difficult for me.
G&B: When was the last time you had a good feeling about an album you listened to?
A.H.: Do you mean an album by someone else? Well, I usually don't listen to my own records. Yeah, (pauses) I like this Japan CD by Claus Ogerman and Michael Brecker, "City Scapes"; it's a great album. But I really don't listen to many things. The guys in my band – like our bassist Skuli Sverrisson, a great young musician – they're different. Skuli has headphones on all day and practices 24 hours a day – (grins) like I should too (laughs). He practices while I go for a drink. That's really all you need to know about me: I'm lazy. Skuli always has tons of CDs from other musicians, people I don't even know. (Drummer) Gary Husband listens a lot too. I'm more influenced by thinking about music for myself; I don't necessarily need to listen. It's a crazy feeling; I can't describe it. Sometimes I think that so much music is just in the air. I just have to find a way to make something out of it. So don't get me wrong, I really enjoy listening when other people make music. But I'm just more focused on playing my own stuff, writing, learning – and in doing that, I keep discovering new things. Every time, I'm aware that the next thing I'll be working on will be more challenging than what I'm doing right now. Every year, I learn new things, and at the same time, the feeling of knowing less, mastering less of what's really possible, intensifies. And this process doesn't end: even after 25 lifetimes, I'd know almost nothing. And that's exactly what keeps me alive. But in the deepest depths of my mind, I can't imagine what it's like to be absolutely happy and content with what I'm currently doing. I just can't imagine it.
G&B: But you have enough reason to be happy occasionally, don't you?
A.H.: I'm glad to be involved with music, to play music, to collaborate with great musicians. I look forward to playing, always just playing. But that doesn't always happen, and then I'm disappointed. Then I look forward to the next opportunity, notice it, hate what I'm doing, look forward to the next attempt, and so on. I'm just trying to find my way. Maybe someday I'll get to the point where I find my stuff tolerable – I don't even have to really like it. I just want to be able to say to myself, "Okay, what you did wasn't so bad." And then I'll feel good.
G&B: On the other hand, you must have recognized that your music brings something positive to other people?
A.H.: I do know that, and it moves me greatly when people say things like that. It's the greatest thing a musician can hope for, to emotionally touch someone with their music. Although I never really know how it works because it's a very unique language with an unlimited vocabulary. People hear certain notes, but each note, how it's played, etc., means something specific to a particular person. It could be a grunge guitar or an intense solo by Michael Brecker or Keith Jarrett – and on the other hand, even though one musician's musical vocabulary can be light-years away from another musician's, it's possible that both can equally move people. You know, I like it when musicians can play such crazy, ridiculous things that I have to laugh. Vinnie Colaiuta can do that; he plays some incredible stuff on his drums that leaves me with nothing else to do but laugh. And that's great.
G&B: This somewhat uncertain aspect of your personality is also evident in the introduction of an instructional video of yours. You emphasize not seeing yourself as a teacher because you're not sure if what you're doing is really correct.
A.H.: To clarify this matter: I see some people teaching music who, in my opinion, have no right to do so. They don't know anything and shouldn't be teaching. Sometimes, they teach their students things that I consider wrong. On the other hand, there are people like Peter Erskine, a fantastic drummer and teacher, where everything he says makes sense to me. What I do is very self-focused, it's very specific because I want to continue developing through my own music. Therefore, I don't have the right to say that what I do is important and correct for other people. Making music and teaching are two very different things. Some people can do both, but most can't.
Regarding my video: In one hour, you can't summarize what you've learned in a whole lifetime. At that time, there was also a book accompanying the video, which was supposed to clarify some things. But when I later saw the finished tape, I realized that some things came across as confusing. I also can't imagine being a teacher; I don't like that idea fundamentally. Especially because I am convinced that I know so little, very little of what is worth knowing and possible – how can I convey that to someone else? I can only try to show how I approach things, how I see chords and scales, and why modes don't make any sense to me. As I said, this is just my personal standpoint.
The relationships between chords and scales are also not what they teach in schools. But I just think that it's wrong because, according to this teaching, it doesn't always work for me. Maybe all of this comes from the early days of music theory when they said this chord is related to that one, and the chord should only follow this one. But as harmony evolved into a more complex direction, it didn't work that simply anymore. It's like a mathematical formula that you want to change when it no longer works due to certain insights or circumstances. Eventually, you realize that it can't work like that anymore. So you go back to the beginning and develop a completely new formula. That's exactly what I wanted to do, and I did it for myself as well. My father had a very traditional education, and he occasionally taught me. But after playing for a few years, I realized that these things no longer made sense to me. And when I went back to the very beginning, I found that none of the rules I had learned matched the general music theory; they didn't make sense to me anymore.
When you think about modes, for example: a conventional scale has so many tones and, accordingly, so many modes. But what do you do when you have a scale that spans two octaves – what is the second mode, how do you deal with it, how do you name these modes? In conventional scales and modes, there are also many overlaps – why is that? It's nonsense! It doesn't matter if two scales start with different notes if they have the same structure. You can see very well on the guitar how scales differ from each other; it happens right in front of your eyes on the fretboard. Initially, like everyone else, I played only in patterns and small groups of notes, but now I think differently, and that reveals many possibilities.
A.H.: I'm still not very good at it and feel like I'm at the beginning, but that's a journey. For example, when I have a Cmaj7 in front of me, I never think about a specific voicing or a particular inversion. I think about which notes could fit with that sound, how I could overlay it, depending on which chord came before it and which one follows. So, I simply try to think melodically. But what I wanted to say is simply this: I can't dictate to anyone what is right and what is wrong because it's all about how I see things myself. (laughs) So, that was a two-hour lecture.
G&B: Then let's get back to the practical side. When I listened to your album "Hard Hat Area," I found that it still sounds very European, even though you've been living on the American West Coast for a while.
A.H.: That won't change. Music is a very geographically determined matter and comes from the depths of your existence, your heritage. (Pianist) Joe Zawinul, for example, grew up in Europe, and I don't think moving to America really changed his music. After all, three members of my band are Europeans (laughs). And the last thing I wanted to do was a West Coast album. But I do like California.
G&B: Do you notate your compositions in detail?
A.H.: No, I never do that. What's important to me, though, are some of the titles that allude to the images underlying the music.
G&B: In terms of mood, some parts of the new album reminded me of the melancholy and loneliness that Norwegian guitarist Terje Rypdal expresses in his music. I hear a juxtaposition of "organization" or "structure" and "loneliness."
A.H.: That might be true. It doesn't really matter how many people and friends you meet, who you love and care for: "You come alone, and you go alone" – that's an old saying, but it also expresses something very frightening. And perhaps some of that is reflected in my music.
G&B: For me, your music also has a soundtrack atmosphere at times, in the sense that it evokes mental images.
A.H.: I think that's a good thing. When I listen to music, it's like seeing a picture: Sometimes I'm inspired by the title of the composition, but essentially, the music truly creates mental images.
G&B: And what does the title "Ruhkukah" from your current album mean, for example?
A.H.: (laughs) That's a funny thing. A good friend of mine, who passed away from cancer a few years ago, was a real ladies' man – he was really popular with the ladies. And "Ruhkukah" was one of his personal euphemisms for "making love," emphasizing the sound and pronunciation of it. He was a funny guy, roundish. I thought of him when I wrote the piece.
G&B: The album tracks are framed by a "Prelude" and a "Postlude." What's the story behind those?
A.H.: Both are spontaneous improvisations without a preconceived idea or concept. That's why they didn't get titles.
G&B: You mostly recorded the other tracks live in the studio. How significant was the use of overdubs?
A.H.: There weren't many, but I always do a few overdubs. What we tried to do with this album was to play a significant portion of the material live before even going into the studio, and that made a big difference. In the past, we used to bring new music to recording sessions, and we hadn't played it together at all. So now, we always recorded everything right away, and only if one of us wasn't satisfied with their part, they could redo it. I always care a lot about making sure the bassist and the drummer are happy with their parts. Our keyboardist, Steve (Hunt), and I can always tinker around, but it's different with the rhythm section. If I've played a good solo and they don't like their part, then we have to re-record everything; the other way around, we can fix it. We've always recorded the basic tracks very quickly, in three or four days. Then I start wrestling with it and mix the recordings – that can take ages because I do it at home, which is very cost-effective. I don't own a tape machine myself, so I rent one, and it's much cheaper than going to a studio for mixing. And if we need to add a keyboard or bass solo later, we do that here too.
G&B: Which of your albums would you recommend to young musicians who want to get to know your music?
A.H.: Recommend? (laughs) Well, I naturally like the new album a lot because it has that organic sound again and captures some of the spirit of the older "I.O.U." album. I like that. Some other albums I find less cohesive because they involved different bands, various studios, and so on. "Wardenclyffe Tower" had some music I liked, but I don't like the entire album. My favorites would probably be "Hard Hat Area" and "Secrets."
G&B: And what about records where you've recorded as a guest musician? I'm thinking of "Believe It" by Lifetime...
A.H.: I recently listened to that album again. A friend brought me a CD that combined "Believe It" and "Million Dollar Legs," and I couldn't listen to it. The guitar sounded so lame, unbelievably so. But you have to consider when it was recorded. So, I can't recommend an album that's ten years old to people today. You had to experience that music back then to get anything out of it.
G&B: By the way, that was already 18 years ago.
A.H.: Really? Maybe. It's incredible, that's a long time. Time flies!
G&B: What else interests you besides music?
A.H.: Cycling, I love that. And beer, I really enjoy beer.
G&B: There's a rumor that you own a brewery.
A.H.: (grinning) No, that's not true. Well, I did try to brew my own beer back in England at some point, but there are so many great beer varieties, and as a layperson, you can't match their quality. These brewers have traditions that go back hundreds of years, and if I mix a few things together, it will never turn into good beer (laughs). It's like buying a guitar and expecting to sound like John McLaughlin in two days. It just doesn't work. However, I do own some English hand-pulled beer pumps for dispensing beer, which I imported myself. I don't like beer with carbonation, which Americans do heavily. When you dispense it with the hand pump, the carbonation disappears, and the beer tastes better. These rumors probably stem from the fact that I named my studio "The Bremer" (laughs). But we don't actually produce beer here.
After the interview, Allan wanted to delve further into his hobby. So, we went to a pub near his home where you could watch the house-brewed beer being made through a glass window. And even though Allan knew this place, there was a sparkle in his eyes when he saw the shiny brewing kettles. Holdsworth is a fanatic in the best sense, someone who is passionate about what he does, whether it's music or brewing. Because when it came to the topic of "beer," he had a lot to say and even insisted on taking a few jugs home, where he demonstrated the aforementioned English hand pumps in action. And it tasted amazing. Cheers! Just as enthusiastically as Holdsworth can talk about his preferences, he is modest and reserved when it comes to his own person. Except for a very few friends, no one in his circle is aware that he is one of the most important and stylistically unique guitarists of the past two decades. His neighbors think of him as an occasional musician and tinkerer, and in the brewery pub, he's a welcome guest – nothing more. On the other hand, his name is a magic word for almost every well-known guitarist in the world, and its effect is stronger than an expensive facelift. Carlos Santana, John McLaughlin, Joe Satriani, Steve Vai, Steve Lukather, Michael Landau, and many others lit up and immediately looked ten years younger when the name "Holdsworth" came up during an interview. For some reason, there have always seemed to be obstacles preventing Allan from having a greater live presence in Germany in recent years. Unfortunately, a tour that was planned for October and already booked didn't materialize due to peculiar circumstances. Let's hope that changes in the near future because this musician deserves it.
Lothar Trampert
