INSTRUMENTAL inquisition!
Instrumentals have supplied some of music’s most evocative moments. We asked some top guitarists for their take on this iconic movement. This month: one-time Joe Satriani student, ex T-Ride guitarist and now solo artist, Geoff Tyson.
Geoff Tyson
Geoff Tyson with cool Duesenberg Starplayer guitar
GT : What is so appealing to you about instrumentals?
Geoff: I was always fascinated with the raw power and energy of an electric guitar, pumped up loud through a tube amp, in that it’s so primal and emotional. It’s a perfect instrument to be featured as a melodic and rhythmic centre of a well composed and produced song. But to be honest, I don’t especially care for most guitar instrumental music. There are some amazing players in the world today, but the flashy, technique-first style of many of them I find tedious, like watching someone do the same card trick again and again. I prefer a great player, combined with composition-first types of albums like Jeff Beck, Satriani, Steve Morse, Django Reinhardt, or the old albums from Bill Bruford featuring Allan Holdsworth. Give me a great song first, and then let the guitar shine on top of it.
GT: What can an instrumental provide that a vocal song can’t?
Geoff: Just try to sweep-pick with your voice! Ha-ha. Different styles and different instruments can achieve vast, emotionally expressive music. But like ballet and kickboxing, both have a specific purpose and probably don’t need to be compared. With guitar it’s not just about the notes being played, but it’s also the infinite tones, the rhythmic and dynamic capabilities, and the fact that not everyone can do it. Like watching a master at kung fu, the master guitarist can be awe-inspiring just because it’s hard to do it well.
GT: Any tendencies that you aim to embrace or avoid?
Geoff: I don’t really think about it. I find that the process of writing songs, whether it’s instrumental or vocal, is more a stream-ofconsciousness kind of thing. I like to stay in the moment. It always starts with an improvisation, and then I build on it without any firm direction, letting the song guide me around like it’s coaxing me to reveal it. I don’t usually even remember how I did things when I listen back the next morning and I’m often surprised that I don’t suck. With this attitude, I feel like a song could come from anywhere. Give me a broken ukulele and a bottle of cough syrup and there will be a song in there somehow.