
July, 1980
British Rock Guitar Veteran
By Jim Schwartz
REGARDING
RAW emotion and sheer power, few guitarists today can equal Robin Trower.
He literally compels his Fender Stratocaster to sing a timeless musical
language - a blues-rock vocabulary replete with multiple-string bends enhanced
by shimmering left-hand vibratos, sustain, effects, and controlled feedback.
Trower's often metronomic, slow-paced tunes at first seem simple, but that's
a deception. Anyone who's attempting to duplicate his licks quickly
discovers that they are much more than mere timing and technique:
His music exhibits a skilful combination of sound and soul in which pure
feeling dictates his melodies' tempo and tenor.
Born
in Catford, London, England, on Match 9, 1945, Trower first began to play
guitar professionally with the Paramounts in 1962. During the next
three years as a member of the Southend-based R&B band he recorded
a string of singles - including remakes of "Poison Ivy" and "Little
Bitty Pretty One" - and toured with both the Beatles and the Rolling
Stones. The Paramounts never quite caught on, and as their record
company began coercing them into pop realms Trower found himself moving
more towards the blues. He subsequently left the band in 1965, formed
a short-lived group called Jam, and immersed himself in the music of B.B.
King, Otis Rush, Hubert Sumlin, and others for the next six months.
Around
this same time in another part of London former Paramount pianist Gary
Brooker teamed with a lyricist - Keith Reid - and decided that they, too,
wanted to get a group together. After advertising in British music
publications and recruiting four more musicians they released their debut
single "A Whiter Shade Of Pale," as Procol Harum in May of
1967. Shortly thereafter, personal and business matters compelled
all but Brooker, Reid, organist Matthew Fisher (who was to later produce
Robin's first two solo LPs, Twice Removed From Yesterday and Bridge
of Sighs), and bassist Davis Knights to quit the group. Needing
a guitarist and drummer, Procol Harum auditioned former Paramounts Trower
and B.J. Wilson, and the band's line-up was set.
From
his guitar work on Procol Harum in 1967, especially on cuts such
as "Cerdes (Outside The Gates Of)," "Conquistador,"
and "Repent Walpurgis," it was clear that Trower had begun to assimilate
the techniques and, more importantly, the spirit of those blues greats
he had earlier studied . Throughout the next four years Robin's lack
of formal training on the guitar was more than compensated for by an intuitive
musical intelligence which transcended technical know-how. In almost
all of Procol Harum's songs you can hear Trower's guitar climbing
to the furthermost reaches of distortion and expression. Solos such
as those on "Wish Me Well" [Shine On Brightly], "Crucifiction
Lane" [A Salty Dog], "Still there'll be more" [Home],
and "Song For A Dreamer" [Broken Barricades" - his tribute
to the late Jimi Hendrix - proved to be stepping stones for an increasing
desire to make guitar the focal point of the music (Procol Harum's emphasis
on vocals and keyboards often left Robin duelling it out for leads with
organ and piano).
Robin
left Procol Harum after recording Broken Barricades in 1971 and
formed Jude with ex-Stone The Crows bassist/vocalist James Dewar, vocalist/guitarist
Frankie Miller, and Clive Bunker, who used to drum with Jethro Tull.
Nothing of any consequence occurred with that line-up, so Trower with Dewar
went off to form the Robin Trower Band in 1972, adding Reg Isadore
on drums. After recording Twice Removed From Yesterday in 1973
and
Bridge
Of Sighs in 1973, Isadore was replaced by former Sly Stone percussionist
Bill Lordan. and with the exception of two LPs - In City Dreams
and Caravan To Midnight - where funk bassist Rustee Allen joined
the band, Trower has retained a power trio format throughout all his solo
ventures.
For
nearly two decades the guitar has been Robin Trower's lifeblood, an artistic
tool with which he melds past and present in offering listeners a musical
bridge of feeling between yesterday and today. First featured in
Guitar Player's April '74 issue, where he spoke about leaving Procol
Harum and forming his own band, Trower here states some of the most important
moments in his evolution as a guitarist, discusses equipment and effects,
offers advise to would-be rockers concerning instruments and LPs, and comments
on musical influences - including his debt to, and being compared with,
Jimi Hendrix.
* * *
When
did you first get interested in guitar?
I
was messing about right from when I was 14. I had an old steel-string
cello guitar - you know, with f-holes - and it was really cheap, it cost
about 8 pounds, or something like that. I was very keen on people
like Elvis, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Gene Vincent. Of course,
I was only a dumb kid, but I was always a big Elvis fan. It was him
playing guitar that first made me want to play. The image of Elvis
holding an instrument and just being what he was, you know, made me think,
"Well, I'm going to get a guitar, too."
Did you
earn any money gigging early on?
I
used to get together with a friend of mine at school, and we'd tune the
strings down on the cello guitar and pretend that we had a bass.
By this time I also owned an old solidbody electric, and we did stuff by
a group called the Shadows. You know, just muck around with songs
they used to do. We played a couple of little things where they passed
the hat around and got about 2 shillings each. It wasn't anything
serious, however, until we formed the Paramounts.
What
style of music were you playing?
We were
actually an R&B band, but the record company tried to make us into
a pop group. All our material was like James Brown, Bobby Bland,
and Ray Charles things; and we got quite a name for ourselves at the time,
especially with the Rolling Stones. We toured with them and the Beatles,
too, in the mid '60s.
How
did it feel to tour with the Beatles?
Well,
we were just kids then, and it didn't matter to us at all whether we were
bottom or top of the bill. It was an experience, I suppose, being
on a Beatle's tour. We did their last tour of Britain in '65, and
the thing that blew me away about that was it wasn't sold out every night.
And they weren't very good; I mean, the singing was great, but the playing
was a bit weak.
What about working with the Stones?
We
were the Stones' favorite group, actually. We supported them when
they were just getting their first hit, called "Come On" [More
Hot Rocks, London, 2PS-626/27]. We supported them and they
loved it; they gave us all their work they were leaving with blues clubs.
And then they used to put us on their shows, too, as they got bigger.
But at the time I was just a daft kid, and I didn't take any of it in.
In those days playing guitar to me was just something I did for fun.
I wasn't a serious musician until I got well into this thing I'm doing
now. I mean, I never used to practice anything - I never knew about
practising.
How
did you learn songs?
Just
listening, you know. I didn't use to sit down and work out other
people's material; I've never believed in that. And even while I
was with Procol Harum, the only time I'd see my guitar was either when
I walked onstage or in the studio. That's how serious I was about
it then.
Have
you had any formal training on guitar?
My grasp
on musical theory is zilch, really, except for some knowledge of major
and minor chords. I've never had lessons, and all the stuff I do
is what I make up. Early on I never had any contact with other guitarists;
I never sat down and had them explain to me all the different things you
can do with the instrument. It wasn't until I met Bob Fripp six years
ago that I began to practice seriously. He gave me some finger exercises
which I worked on for about a year, and they really helped. I don't
do them now, but I do sit and play to myself a lot more. I tried
to give Bob some lessons on how to do my kind of thing, but musically we
were worlds apart and never the twain shall meet, as they say.
Why
did you leave the Paramounts?
I
left them because I was getting more and more interested in blues, and
the Paramounts weren't doing blues. So I more or less just sat at
home and listened to all the blues players for about six months or so.
I got into people like B.B. King, Otis Rush, Hubert Sumlin, Albert King
- all of them, really. I think the one album that was my most influential
was B.B. King's Live At The Regal [MCA, 724].
I listen to that today, and it
still knocks me out; I think that's the most wonderful guitar playing
I've ever heard. I love Otis Rush's thing as well. His very
fast vibrato was a real eye opener.
What
kind of equipment were you using during this time?
A
number of different guitars; a Burns-Well solidbody electric, a Gretsch
Country Gentleman, and a Strat that got stolen. The first time I
ever played a Strat was with the Paramounts. I was using my Country
Gentleman and we had a problem with a pickup, so I took it back to the
store and they loaned me a Strat. But I just could not get along
with it very well at all; I couldn't get anything out of it.
One night it was in the back of our truck and got stolen, and it wasn't
even mine. I went back to the music store, and they said not to worry.
But they couldn't fix my Country Gentleman, so they gave me a Gretsch Chet
Atkins solidbody which I used for some years after that and got along with
quite well.
Your
guitar sound on all the Procal Harum albums seems right on the edge of
distortion. How did you get that?
It's
difficult ti pin down when I started to get into distortion, but it was
definitely before my Procal Harum days. I used to play through a
Selmer Little Giant valve [tube] amp which had one tiny speaker in it,
and I ran a jack lead off the speaker points into a small Fender.
That way, I got some of the hardness above it from the Fender and all my
distortion sort of smoothness from overloading the Selmer. But, unfortunately,
when it came to playing bigger places needing a bigger sound, I tried running
the Selmer through a Marshall, and it didn't work. When you start
to wind up the wick a bit it used to start whistling; therefore, I had
to break down and start all over again to get the sound I liked.
But on songs like "Repent Walpurgis" [Procal Harum],
that's the Little Giant with the Fender, and I used my Chet Atkins solidbody.
How
did you work out a solo such as the one in
"Repent Walpurgis"?
Gary [Brooker]
knew that if he wanted a guitar solo, it would have to be something that
could be played in the blues scale. So if there were changes, they
had to be mostly blues things. I didn't have a lot of input really,
except for certain fills and other little parts I wrote. We'd sit
around and learn the song for about one hour and then record it.
I'd jam a solo; there was nothing worked out. It was just get up
and wail and that was it. I think that's basically why I didn't
start to improve as a musician until I got well into my own group.
But in a way it was a good thing because it's given me the style I've got
today.
What
guitars did you use on the other Procal Harum LPs?
For Shine
On Brightly I had a '68 Gibson SG, and on
A Salty Dog that
was a '60s Les Paul Special run through an old, brown Gibson amp.
I had another old Les Paul something or other on Home, and
on
Broken Barricades I played a '62 Strat. It
wasn't really until I came in contact with that Strat that I settled down
with one instrument. On the later album I used it in "Song For
A Dreamer" and "Poor Mohammed."
Which
Procal Harum album do you feel contains your best work?
I haven't
heard them for so long, but I feel that my playing on the first album was
probably some of my best. And I often wonder; I'm definitely a better
technician now, but is the music I currently make as good as what I used
to make when I wasn't as good technically? When your mind starts
to overtake what your heart feels, then, to me, it's less musical.
And I'm not sure, but it's possible the music I played when I didn't know
what I was doing was much better because it was sheer feeling - there was
no technical ability at all.
Why
did you leave Procol Harum?
On
Broken
Barricades I was starting to spread my wings a bit, and I was getting
more into writing songs. Obviously, if you write a song, and you're
a guitarist, there's going to be more guitar in it. That was the
beginning of me leaving the band; I was fascinated by being able to write
music for the guitar.
On
Twice
Removed From Yesterday, a song such as
"I Can't Wait Much Longer"
has
a slow, pulsing, ethereal sound. How did you get that?
That's
just a Univox Univibe [vibrato/phase unit] that does it. On the LP
I also had an Arbiter Fuzz Face and a 100-watt Marshall with two 4x10s
which had a very good sound until they got knocked out, and then they went
very dead. Whereas with the 12s, the more you play them the better
they sound.
Do
you prefer a tube or a transistor amplifier?
Tubes,
definitely. You can't get a transistor amp to sing, it's only tubes
that will do that.
Are
you using an Echoplex on "Hannah" [Twice Removed From Yesterday]?
No,
that's just the backing guitar and the lead; although in the instrumental
break there are about four guitars on that. And while "Daydream"
is my favorite song on there, "Hannah" is the best recorded track.
We spent quite a long time in rehearsal on that one - jamming around on
it, getting ideas for the middle break, and coming up with the theme.
Your second LP, Bridge Of Sighs, was popular.
Yeah.
that's my biggest album. I don't like everything on it, but then
I suppose you never like everything on any album. I think there are
things on it, such as the title song, which are the best work I've done.
"Bridge Of Sighs" is the most soulful, most creative, powerful piece
of guitar playing I've ever come up with.
What
inspired you on that specific song?
I
don't really know. That one I sat down and started off on acoustic
guitar and I had the first verse for months and months before I came up
with the changes. And then I worked up the theme that it goes into
at the end. It took me quite a long time to put together. It
was one of those things where I knew it was going to be a cracker - I just
didn't want to rush it, and I wanted every part of it to be great.
Were
you still using your '62 Strat on Bridge Of Sighs?
No,
I'd just bought a new black '74 for that one.
In
your earlier Guitar Player interview you said you wanted to buy
a new Strat every six months. Still true?
Well,
the thing is I didn't want to get attached to one guitar; I didn't want
to have an instrument that was irreplaceable. So I was playing new
Strats, but one day someone handed me a '56, and the sound was so different
and so much better that I got hooked on older Strats. I used the
'56 on my live album and, I think, on Long Misty Days. Then
I began messing around and decided I didn't like maple fingerboards because
they were tearing my fingers up a lot - the friction seemed to be greater,
or something, than with rosewood fingerboards. Anyway, I came across
a nice rosewood, and I ended up eventually with these two '66s that I'm
now using - which are the best ones I've ever had.
What
made you change your mind about buying new Strats?
I
think you have to be lucky to get a good new one. I've found that
they won't settle down; they change over the first six months or so.
There's something about the wood in the new Strats that isn't quite right
- isn't aged enough, or something. I had that beautiful new '74 years
ago, and it was great; but, eventually, it just went completely off.
I couldn't get the neck to be intonated, and it was buzzing and whistling,
so that's when I went off new Strats. And while I didn't like the
sound of new ones then, I do now. In fact, Fender's going to build
me one which is exactly like my '66, and another that has their new multi-extra-winding
pickups in it.
Are
you going to be endorsing Fender?
Well,
I said to them at first that I wouldn't be happy with them using my name
to sell new guitars because I'm not using new ones, and I wouldn't like
a kid who went out and bought a new Strat to think he was going to get
the same thing I have. That's when I told them, "If you can build
me a couple that I think are really good, we'll go from there."
Are
your Strats modified?
No.
I like to keep all of my instruments standard. The '62, for example,
had a vibrato bar on it, but I didn't use it because I was always having
trouble trying to keep the guitar in tune. Besides, I'm just not
interested in using one because I feel that whatever you do will come out
sounding like Jimi Hendrix anyway and I want to stay away from that.
So now my Strats are blocked off [with a piece of wood or other material
wedged between the vibrato block and the guitar body], and all the vibrato
you hear on my albums after Twice Removed From Yesterday was done
with just my left hand. I think, perhaps, the fundamental part of
my technique is my vibrato.
How
long did it take you to develop that facility?
Well,
I had a good left hand starting to develop in the Paramounts. It
was natural, too; It wasn't like I heard something and tried to sound the
same. I've only got the vibrato on three fingers - I can't with my
little finger. Just about all of my things I had to work at.
I was never happy with my natural vibrato. It seemed too fast, so
I began concentrating on making it slower. I usually bend with my
first two fingers, but the secret is all in the grip of the thumb.
When you're pulling or pushing strings, the grip you use on the neck is
what allows you to hold and control the bends. That's where you have
to work hard to master the technique. If you held your left hand,
say in a classical fashion, it would be next to impossible to pull off
those bends with vibrato added. So a powerful grip is vital to my
style of playing. And, I think, the most unique sounding vibrato
that I do is with my index finger.
Why
do you employ vibrato so often in your music?
To
me, it's just what playing with feeling is all about. Those vibratos
and bending add the sultry touch; that's where you get into the human voice
thing, too. After hearing Live At The Regal, my playing turned
around from being what it was in the Paramounts to what it is now; using
the instrument as a human voice. A wah-wah is important as well.
I love it; it makes the guitar scream. But, actually, the guitar
is a very poor substitute for the human voice. I think that if I
could sing, I wouldn't be a guitarist.
Do
you prefer bending strings up or down?
Both.
You see, I have short hands, and that's why I have to bend up to notes;
I can't always reach the frets [laughs]. I'll do one-two-
and three-string bends sometimes, and then I'll throw on a vibrato.
How
important is damping?
That's
another thing I haven't had to consciously develop. I've always had
a natural ability to damp, mostly with the heel of my hand. But it's
vital, especially when you're playing at the volumes I do.
Where
are your guitar's and amp's settings when you're soloing?
The
Strat's volume control is usually at 7 or 8, and the tone controls are
always full on; I never mess with those. On my two Marshall Mark
IIs, the master volume is three-fourths, the preamp volume is a bit less,
and apart from the presence control - which I don't ever use - the bass
and treble are about one-quarter on.
What
about pickups: Which do you use the most?
I've got
a 3-way selector switch, and the middle pickup is the one I play through
most often. I will switch from one to another on occasion; I'll use
one for leads and another for rhythm things. But I never go across
all three at the same time. Occasionally I'll do solos on all three
pickups - it depends on the kind of effect I want to get. The neck
pickup gives a very warm, almost jazzy kind of sound. Being a Fender,
it still has the clarity where you can do rock and roll lead work on it,
too. Most of "Daydream" [Twice Removed From Yesterday] was
on the neck pickup, as was a lot of the other lead stuff on that album.
The middle unit, however, is the mainstay of the whole thing; that's the
one all the rock and roll things are done on - apart from one or two times
where I've used the treble [bridge] pickup.
In
"Victims Of The Fury," how many times do you change pickups and
volumes?
I
began with the Univibe on. Then when the solo begins it's just straight
guitar, no effect, middle pickup full on, amp turned way up. Halfway
through I switch on the wah-wah and finish off with it. You
see, to me the wah-wah's a climatic thing. That's the way I use it
onstage. When you want to take the song to its highest point, that's
where the effect comes in. It makes the guitar sound more aggressive.
On
that song, did you go direct or mike your amp?
I
always mike the amps. In fact, for most of the album we had a mike
about three feet away from the amp and another about five feet away, both
looking down at a floor speaker. I wasn't using a stack, just one
head and one cabinet. With the mikes positioned that way, we also
captured ambience - using the floor as a reflective thing. But on
my next album I'd like to get involved more with close miking. I've
never done it before, so rather than trying to achieve an ambient sound,
I want to see what I'd get from just one close mike.
What other amps and effects have you employed on your solo albums?
With
exception of In City Dreams, there are only one or two tracks on
all of my albums that haven't got Marshalls on them. For In City
Dreams I used an amp that my electronics guy Mike built for me in the
studio: a quarter amp, which would get the same sound as a Marshall.
We had a lot of different effects on that album, too. For instance,
that's when I started using an [Electro-Harmonix] Electric Mistress flanger.
To get say, that rocket ship sound, I ran a Fender Blender [distortion/harmonics/sustain
device] through the Mistress. On Caravan To Midnight I used
effects in stereo. In other words, I had the output split - one to
one amp, one to the other. On each split were different effects,
like two or three going to one side, and two or three going to the other,
so that you had the same guitar with a different sound coming from both
amps. Also around this time Mike and I redid my pedalboard.
Were
you having problems with it?
Well,
we talked a hell of a lot about what we wanted to get out of the sounds
- you know, what the problems were. The problem basically was that
if you used more than a couple of pedals, you lost sound: The more
pedals connected up, the more the signal died. So he invented a system
whereby that wouldn't happen. Now I can have a hundred pedals in
the line and there will be no difference at all. Before I got Mike,
who also doctors my amps, I used to use a noise gate at the front; that
didn't affect the power, but, unfortunately, I lost a lot of top end.
[Ed. Note: Robin preferred
to keep the operational details of his pedalboard and amplifiers confidential.]
From
your left to right, how is your pedalboard currently set up?
The
first effect is a preamp that Mike built, which is on all the time.
The second is another volume booster, a Dan Armstrong Red Ranger, which
I use for even greater sustain. Third is my Tycobrahe wah-wah.
The fourth is the Fender Blender. The fifth is the Univibe, and the
sixth is a
Mu-tron II. The seventh and eighth
are Mistresses with different settings; the one on the left gives a double-tracking
effect, while the one on the right provides more of a flanged sound.
But I think I've come to a halt as far as effects go. I mean, I can
just barely handle what I've got now. There's so much stuff going
on that if you just started mixing them there would be a limitless number
of combinations you could get.
From
your pedalboard, where does the signal go?
Into
a splitter box, then to my amps. I don't use a mixing board or anything
when I'm live because I like to be very much in control of what's going
on. Especially concerning dynamics, that's so much a part of my music
that I wouldn't feel happy if someone else were controlling it. I
like to be creating the sound.
Why
do you like manipulating your Strat's volume control versus using a volume
pedal?
Because
I like to walk around the stage and get the guitar in different positions
relative to the amps. When you move around you can create different
kinds of sounds and different sustains, and using the volume control is
just a matter of dynamics; you can achieve so many expressions out of the
instrument by using it. If it's down low, there's a completely different
expression than if it's halfway, three-quarters, or full up. And
it's also important when you want to get feedback.
Do
you know where to stand onstage to obtain specific feedback responses?
It's
just luck, really. You can feel it coming on, so you give it a bit
more volume until you reach a point where if you do it anymore you'll lose
it. You just have to be able to judge it, and that comes from experience.
But when you finish a run, say, and hit a note, you can feel it starting
to sustain; so you can either let it build or let it stay there.
Do
you manipulate your pickup selector switch in the studio as well as on
stage?
That's
something I use a lot more live. You see, when you're in the studio
you're not doing such a range of things, and you can set your amps and
guitar to get a specific sound for the part you're playing. I don't
tend to do such freewheeling stuff in the studio. I'd like to get
into more of a blowing kind of thing in there, but it never seems to get
to that point, or very rarely does. You haven't got the audience
to feed off of, and you don't have the same sound.
Do
you like being in a live performance situation more than being in the studio?
Well,
the audience is the other part of the performance. I think I play
my best guitar live, there's no doubt about that. I have more freedom
live, and I seem to flow better. And I'm much more committed onstage,
you know. I'm much higher there than I ever am in the studio.
The studio's too constrictive. I'm definitely enjoying this current
tour more than the last one I did, which was quite a long time ago.
This is the first time we've been out in two-and-a-half years. You
see, I was getting fed up with playing those big arenas - I wasn't enjoying
it anymore. Another reason for the delay was that I wanted to take
my time and get Victims Of The Fury together.
Then there were some personal business things that came up. So I
had to get all the crap sorted out before I could get on with the business
at hand.
Have
you ever overdubbed parts of a solo that you weren't happy with?
I've
only done that once, on "Victims Of The Fury." I just wasn't
happy with the tail of it. Normally, I would have gone through the
whole thing again, but the main part of it was so good that I wanted to
keep it. It was just the last three or four bars that weren't quite
finished.
Do
you do much doubling and tripling of guitar tracks when you record?
No,
I never have. I do pretty basic kinds of stuff, really. I like
to think what I'm hearing back is real. I don't like to concoct something
that I don't feel I actually created by playing.
How
many takes do you need before you're satisfied with a solo?
Well,
I start out by jamming a bit, and I pick out good parts and start to put
them together. Normally, a solo would be like one or two takes.
I'll just go in and do it, because after you've played it a couple of times
you start to lose the spontaneity - you start to repeat yourself.
And to me spontaneity is the whole thing, really.
When
you're onstage, do you stick to what's on the record or do you improvise?
I've
never thought of trying to do the material differently; I always keep it
more or less the same. To me there's a definite way of doing a song.
If I didn't think that, I wouldn't have done it that way in the first place.
You see, with a three-piece band, to get something working you've got to
hone it down to the point where it's at a peak. It's almost like
everything's got to be the ultimate arrangement - the ultimate performance
- for it to work. Whereas if you're in a band of, say, four or five
pieces where everyone's sort of just playing chords, you can mess about
and do different arrangements. But the guitar part is the pivot of
everything we do, so if you change the guitar part you no longer have what
it is. My songs are more arrangements than they are songs - they're
guitar arrangements.
What
are you thinking about when you're onstage?
I
think about what I'm going to have for breakfast tomorrow [laughs].
No, I'm gone; that's what I'm thinking about. I don't really know.
It's just, "Bye!" That's me.
What
about strings and picks?
I
go through about two Fender mediums a night because I don't pick straight
down; it's sort of sideways, and it shaves them off. My strings are
Ernie Balls, .011, .015, .016, .024, .034, and .046. I change them
every other night, but I change the low E every night because it goes dead
very quickly.
Do
you always play in standard tuning?
No.
My standard tuning is down a semitone to concert pitch; when I'm playing
E, it's actually an Eb. So [from low to high]
I'm Eb, Ab, Db,
Gb, Bb, and Eb.
The only reason I tune down a semitone is so I can use those heavier gauge
strings and still be able to bend them. Having an .011 on the high
E like I do, I wouldn't be able to do the bends I do with it and be in
concert pitch. And since I've switched to the heavier strings, I'm
getting along much better - although they're tougher to play. I find
I have to warm up longer before I go on. Sometimes I'll tune the
sixth string down a whole tone, which enables me to play in the key of
D and have the bottom string to use as well. I did that on "Jack
And Jill" [Victims Of The Fury].
How
do you write songs?
Nearly
always on the electric guitar. Since my Procol Harum days, I'd use
the electric without an amp - just me sitting in a hotel room quietly picking
away. On occasion, however, I've used an acoustic to write a tune:
"Song For A Dreamer," [Broken Barricades], which was the
tribute to Hendrix, I wrote on an acoustic tuned to an E chord. And
I always remember anything I come up with that I really like. I could
think of something that's good and not play it for a year, then later I
would be able to pick it out again. Things I like seem to stay with
me.
Why
don't you incorporate faster runs into your songs?
It's pretty
hard - no, it's impossible - to play a run with as much feeling as a single
note. With a single note you can say a great deal more than you can
with a run. I've never been so much into runs as making single notes
cry. I go for as much feeling as I can, rather than show what I can
do up and down the neck. I don't play to show people ability.
I'm interested in making music and music has nothing to do with your technical
ability. The ability to make music is a gift that you're born with;
it's not something you can learn.
So
do you consider yourself born to play the blues?
Well,
I think the blues has been very important to my music. It's the creative
fountainhead of everything I do, but I don't think of myself as a blues
player. I'm just me, a sort of combination of many influences.
I wouldn't count myself as being a true blues guitarist because, I feel,
you have to live it. Apart from an imitative version of it, there's
no way you can recreate the blues because it belongs to a certain era and
a certain race. And I've never been into a nostalgia thing where
I'm trying to recreate something that's already been done. So my
gift is not to play the blues, but just to make music.
In
the past you have been compared to Jimi Hendrix, and even criticized by
some for sounding too much like him. How much of an influence has
his music been on you?
In
response to the first part, bullshit! Those people haven't heard
Hendrix, and they haven't heard me, or else they wouldn't say that.
Hendrix definitely opened up a lot of doors. He changed the language,
rewrote the language, of the electric guitar. I felt, right or wrong,
that there was no way you could move forward without absorbing at least
part of what he created. If you wanted to progress, then first of
all you had to deal with it. It wasn't until I started thinking about
being a guitar-bass-drums thing that I started to draw on what I'd absorbed
from him, because it was more of a challenge than I'd realized to fill
that kind of space. But as with Hendrix, the same thing happened
when I first heard B.B. King and knew that was something important.
You know, steps were being made, and the instrument was starting to become
much more expressive. B.B. plays with a lot of natural feeling.
So in just the same way with Hendrix's music, I felt I had to absorb that
and all the other blues guitarists, too. Oddly enough, Hendrix is
not my favorite guitar player.
Who
is?
The
best stuff I've ever heard is by a guy who's on a record called "Watch
Your Step" [1961: V-Tone, Philadelphia (out of print)] by a bloke named
Bobby Parker. I don't know if it was Parker himself or not on the
guitar, but it's definitely a featured thing on both sides.
Do
you listen to many current guitarist?
There
are very few guitar players I get feeling from. I really like the
things the guy in the Fabulous Thunderbirds [Jimmy Vaughan; see this month's
Pro's Reply] does. It's a great band, and I like listening to the
music. It's very authentic, but it's fresh as well. In many
respects there's more power in the simpler things, I think.
Do
you have any advise for young guitarist?
The
first thing I'd do, on a practical level, would be to use as high an action
as possible on the Stratocaster. It's the only way to get a good
sound out of the instrument. That's something that took me years
to come down to; so I've just saved them about four years of messing about.
When I used to go and buy a Strat, old or new, I would go through them
all and listen to them acoustically. The one that had the best acoustic
sound I'd check out for it's electric sound. If it doesn't sound
good without an amp, it'll never sound great with one. The most important
thing, however, is that high action. You've got to learn to work
with it because it helps you to bend and to get your fingers behind the
strings and be able to push them up and hold them there. If your
action's too low, then you're going to have trouble with it snapping back
underneath your finger. With strings, use only as light a gauge as
you have to. The heavier the better, obviously, because the heavier
the string, the bigger sound you're going to get. I've got very strong
hands from playing for many years, so it's no good for young players to
try going to my gauges yet. And the other thing is: Don't listen
to any guitar players who have come along in the last 15 years. Don't
listen to me; don't listen to Hendrix; don't listen to any of those other
so-called rock and roll heros.
Whom
should people listen to?
They should
listen to B.B. Kings, all the early Otis Rush stuff, all the things they
can get a hold of by old blues artists. And Chuck Berry - he's still
the best rock and roll player ever. If you want to do rock and roll,
those are the people you've got to hear. Forget about those who've
come after '65. You've got to graduate to listen to, say, Hendrix
or me. I think if players go with that and study those tunes for
a couple of years, they'll do okay. I'm not saying you should sit
down and work that stuff out, because that'll lead you up a blind alley
from which there's no way back. Once you start copying other people's
licks, you begin thinking they're yours - and they're not. Doing
that's just an easy way out. It may take longer, you know, just absorbing
the old blues things and trying to play your own stuff from that, but it's
worth it in the long run.
What
do you see Robin Trower doing in the future?
Still
playing the guitar, I hope. I mean, in what context I couldn't say.
I think a lot of that depends on supply and demand. But still playing
the guitar, yeah. If it ever came to the fact that nobody was really
interested in listening to what I was doing anymore, I would probably just
gig in a local pub or something to still get my licks in. I'd also
like to do production. Up until now I've only done my own stuff,
but I'm interested in producing. I feel it's very satisfying, very
creative, and I get a lot of enjoyment out of it. I'd be interested
in doing someone I was really into; I wouldn't just do anybody - I'd have
to feel it, you know.
* * *
A Selected Trower Discography
Solo
Albums (all on Chrysalis): Twice Removed From Yesterday, CHR
1039; Bridge Of Sighs, CHR 1057; For Earth Below, CHR 1073;
Robin
Trower Live, CHR 1089; Long Misty Days, CHR 1107; In City
Dreams, CHR 1148; Caravan To Midnight, CHR 1189; Victims
Of The Fury, CHR 1215. With Procol Harum: Procol Harum
, Deram (dist. by London), DES 18008; Shine On Brightly, A&M,
SP4151; A Salty Dog, A&M, SP4179, Home, A&M, SP4261;
Broken
Barricades, A&M, SP4294. With the Paramounts
(all
45s on Parlophone [out of print]): "Poison Ivy," "Little Bitty Pretty
One," "I'm The One Who Loves You," "Bad Blood," "Blue Ribbons," "You Never
Had It So Good."
.