I happen to think he's really great. But ask Eddie Van Halen, ask Neal Schon,
ask Carlos Santana or Andy Summers. They say he's great, in print, right in
their interviews. Ask all the people who stood in line for his shows in New
York and L.A. Allan Holdsworth is a legend, and he's been gone for three years.
Allan Holdsworth wasn't Stateside for long. But he had a new band this tour,
his own. The vocalist, Paul Williams, first appeared with Allan ten years ago
in a heavy metal band, Tempest, on the same bill as the old Fleetwood Mac at
the Fillmore East. Tempest didn't make it big, and the next time Holdsworth
appeared in the U.S. he was filling the chair formerly occupied by another British
guitarist, John McLaughlin, in drummer Tony Williams' Lifetime. Holdsworth was
already a guitar legend, having recorded in Europe with Soft Machine, the prototypical
jazz-rock fusion outfit. Guitar fans strained to hear Allan's outrageous lines,
which were buried in a muddy stage mix. After all, it was the drummer's gig!
Gone almost as soon as he'd arrived, Allan returned to England to become a touring
and recording member (for one lp) of UK, the supergroup formed by Roxy Music's
Eddie Jobson, Yes' Bill Bruford and King Crimson's John Wetton. Everywhere they
played, more and more listeners looked up in amazement at what they heard. When
Bruford left UK to go on his own, Allan went with him, and cut the first Bruford
lp. Along the way, Allan recorded with the progressive Continental ensemble
Gong - and his solos stand out, unique. Then he was featured with Jean-Luc Ponty,
and guitar lovers waited through all the other music, just to hear Allan play.
Holdsworth, unlike, say, Tony Mottola, isn't even a contender for the Most Recorded
Guitarist award. But his fans held out for every note. After Ponty, there was
silence.
Silence, that is, until last spring, when he returned to the States with his
band I.O.U. He repaid the fans who'd kept the faith and waited, fans who'd kept
his name from disappearing entirely. Allan's achievements had become obvious
- so obvious that guitar king Eddie Van Halen asked to jam with Allan during
his gigs at New York's Roxy. What? Eddie asking for a guest spot? Yes, and it
was like a student asking to sit in with his teacher. News of the apocryphal
encounter spread far and wide.
Because Holdsworth has redefined his ax, turning it into a smooth, agile singing
voice, and to play the melodies and flurries of a saxophone. When Allan walked
onstage at a New York concert club, from his first chord we knew that a master
was in the house. The only unhappy person might have been Larry Coryell, who
had to follow Holdsworth. Too bad.
Allan's guitar sound was beautiful, and his band I.O.U. played music designed
to showcase what he does best: improvise, expanding the' vocabulary of the guitar.
For those who have saved his scant recordings, it was obvious how influential
he's been. He actually preceded Van Halen's technique of liberating the vibrato
arm from its Hawaiian implications by several years. His use of wide melodic
intervals preceded the currently popular use of the right hand for fretting
to obtain a similar effect. During his tour, he transcended all that; maybe
that's why Fast Eddie gave him the "winner and still champion" sign
at the Roxy while droves of guitar players strained to see how the hell he did
it.
The greatest paradox is that success has eluded such a very much alive and kicking
guitar hero. Clues lie in the uncompromising nature of Holdsworth's music, and
perhaps in luck itself. What happened during his three year absence from the
scene? Things were a bit rough in England for Allan, and he's very candid about
them.
"I was just about to give up playing altogether," he says, "so
I'm glad that eventually we did get over. For the last three years I haven't
worked as a musician, as such. I was repairing amplifiers and I'd fix guitars.
So when the opportunity came to tour and play here, it was fantastic! I was
seeing magazines with people like Ed [Van Halen] in them. saying they liked
my playing a good deal. But back in England those mentions didn't help at all."
The regard that even big stars had for Holdsworth didn't translate into recording
contracts for him. Yet there's little bitterness in the voice of this musician
passed over for less talented, yet trendier, musicians signed by major labels
lately. "It's a similar situation in England as in the United States: a
lot of people know me, but one can't always interest those in the business who
have got to know. And with England being such a' small place, it you do a tour
there, that's it. You can't do another for a year. As far as being a musician
then, I didn't do any sessions - I can't read - and the kind of sessions that
were available I wouldn't have done, anyway. I would have rather worked at a
factory. But if we hadn't made it this time I don't know what I would do."
What kept Allan's momentum alive was unsolicited loyalty of fans at every level.
I asked him how he felt when he saw crowds at his shows.
"Well," he answered, "it's flattering! It's really nice, you
know. When we got to Los Angeles I couldn't believe all these people. I'm glad
to be able to continue that even further, eventually. It's great."
Guitar history was made in Los Angeles. where Van Halen jammed with Holdsworth
at one of his shows, and acknowledged the Englishman as a champion of the guitar.
Allan didn't brag about it; rather, he concentrated on his appreciation of such
a gracious gesture. He explained to me how it came about: "Jeff Berlin
and his band were playing with us that night, and we just thought it would be
nice if Eddie would play with us. I met Ed originally about three or four years
ago while I was working with UK. Just briefly. you know, I didn't get to know
him that well then. At my first Roxy gig we talked, and Ed - he's really a great
guy. I said, 'Come on down in the afternoon when we're playing,' and he and
Jeff came down and we had a bit of a fertile afternoon session. Then we came
up with the idea that we should all get up and play a bit at the end of the
show. Eddie worked out this tune, and we did it that night in L.A."
Since he's now touring under his own name. I asked Holdsworth to reflect on
past ensembles, Where he was a featured sideman. What he now enjoys is a certain
freedom and impact that some previous configurations would not allow.
For example, what I did with UK was a total disaster as far as I was concerned
- I should have never done it in the first place except for the fact that maybe
a few more people got to hear me. But I hated it! Because I really had no space
in it, I had no being in the band. They wanted me to play the same solo, and
there was no way that whatever I did would affect what went on. I couldn't play
something and then add another chorus or it would go off and do something else
- I couldn't do anything like that. I had to do it just as I was playing on
a record. It made me sick. But that was the way the music was written, in bits
and pieces, not real compositions, composed like violin variations, but bits
and pieces thrown together. It made the music kind of non-organic and sterile
to me, and I was miserable most of the time. I used to just get drunk. Half
the time I couldn't remember which tune we were playing! Basically, I enjoyed
making the album with Bill, and I hated UK! I just
wanted to escape the 'Tricky Di ck,' to try and find a musical thing, where
I had more of substance to do rather than parts, because anybody can learn parts.
"That's my feeling, anyway. I was becoming so despondent about the whole
thing that I didn't care whether I was doing the job well - which is why I knew
I had to leave, because it was really self-destructive. I knew I had to go."
Not every previous experience was negative. There were two much more positive
ones he recalled.
"I loved playing with Tony Williams. I loved playing with Jean-Luc Ponty.
All of Ponty's albums were done pretty much live - as far as I can remember
they all were. Live, with everybody playing together, as opposed to people playing
off on their own. The UK album was done one guy at a time. What I mean by live
is that we played together in the studio rather than in different months!"
The Roxy and Los Angeles gigs weren't Allan's only u.s. Appearances; in an uncharacteristic
move he appeared at the guitar institute of technology and opened himself to
scrutiny by student fans.
I never thought I'd ever do things like that before. I couldn't believe what
someone would ask me. I couldn't possibly be any good at teaching anything right.
They were really good about it, in as much as all I had to do was play, and
I kind of answered things. They asked all the usual questions; you know, the
usual 'Which scales do you use?' I use the Richter scale in the attack mode!
No, they were great, they were really fantastic." To lay out his approach
was a surprising step for this usually introverted guitarist, whose perfectionism
is evident in the high standards he sets for himself.
Striving toward some self-ordained goal makes Allan view his work differently
than does a listener. Perhaps we, on the outside. don't see the arch that the
arrow makes towards its target.
"I feel that to put myself down is a real positive thing to do," says
Holdsworth. "It would be really negative for me to think I was really doing
something at this point. It's much more constructive for me to chew myself to
bits. Hopefully, then, I'll keep moving. I don't particularly want to stay where
I am now. I want to develop something and I honestly feel that I've only just
started. Before I was floundering, looking. Now I'm still floundering, but unlike
before I've actually gotten to square one and now I can start. I've got lots
of ideas I've been trying to get together. I wouldn't have thought I'm so influential,
but then again, I don't know. I'm not the guy to know. I know what I'm trying
to do, but I wouldn't know how to explain it."
But as he was on the subject. I urged him to try.
"Single notes I hear like a long note. Then if it's a flurry of notes,
I tend to hear them not as one note after another but as a whole, from beginning
to end, like seeing a color. If you play over one chord and superimpose another
one over it, just to move it around a bit - I do that 'cause I always like those
things that are harmonically interesting, where you want to go, 'What was that?
Gotta hear that again!' I'm trying to find that feeling. It's slightly different
from a 'sheet of sound,' in that most of the notes are important. I hear it
like a line over a particular chord change."
He then began to discuss the relation of idea and execution. For someone with
such dexterity, Holdsworth's facility is only a means, not an end.
"I'm gonna try to keep developing my musical technique, not physical technique.
And if it's required that my physical technique change, it's going to be a perfectly
natural evolution. I do want to keep changing. I'm fed up, basically. I don't
use the tremelo (sic) arm so much now as I used to. I've done that. and when
I listen to it, it almost sounds silly - kind of childish. I can't stand listening
to what I did in the past.
"I was trying to play something that I heard in my head. I've realized
that I've been doing things a different way because I always wanted to develop
my playing logically. For example, when I first started playing I saw guys using
two fingers, and though they could play twice as good using two fingers, I knew
there was something wrong - it's a waste of energy. So from the very beginning
I practiced using all four fingers on my left hand, and I practiced doing things
with silly fingerings to strengthen my last two fingers.
"Even though my musical knowledge was as limited as the others' back then,
I wanted to continue that approach. I was to be limited only by myself, not
by my hands. The intervals are there for anybody. The choice of notes is not
the same thing- anybody could play the same notes-in a totally different way.
The only thing I'm interested in is the notes-it doesn't really interest me
how it's done. I'm only interested in the music and how to play better. I'm
not concerned with any kind of gymnastics, except to make sure that my hands
are going to work, that I'm not going to be limited by them. I wish I had eight
fingers on my left hand - I could do some stuff then!"
In both live performance and on his recordings, there are several areas where
Allan's playing is immediately distinguishable. Phrasing, chording and scalar
fingering are all parts of his personal style. The notes of his melodies and
improvisations flow seamlessly, an uncharacteristic way for the often percussive
guitar to behave. Many players approximate that phrasing style with hammer-ons,
or the fretting technique with the right hand almost universally known as "Van
Halening," which, however, had its roots in Tal Farlow's playing of twenty
years ago.
"It's a perfectly legitimate way to play logically. The only thing is,
I've never been a two-handed player like a lot of guys, like Ed, with two hands
on the guitar neck. I mean both right and left hands on the fingerboard, prodding.
I don't prod. I've seen thousands of guys do that. I guess there must be something
to it. Guys do it in a limited way, not too many in a more extended way. Guys
do it like the odd thing; I've done the odd thing like for a chord, but it's
not something I do the whole time. I've always tried instinctively to stay away
from that. Who knows... maybe I'll be doing that soon. Ha ha.
"I don't know why they do it. I've always used one hand. It has a lot of
possibilities because then you could extend it even further. You can see even
further than that, perhaps: two voices, and playing things other than triplets.
And when you get into playing using all four fingers on the right hand you could
probably come up with something interesting.'
What you can't see by hearing a record, but which is obvious watching Holdsworth
live is Allan's ability to stretch his left hand to reach intervals with unusual
fingerings. This also facilitates his unbroken phrasing. The genesis of his
hand positioning, most noticeably the three- and sometimes four fret stretch
between his first and second fingers, is from his treatment of the scales.
"I practiced scales," he explained, "and realized that I liked
that kind of sound. To play more notes on a String, rather than to play them
on the next string didn't necessarily mean that I had to limit myself to playing
scalarly up one way, or down one way. I practiced playing scales using all four
fingers, starting on F on the low string and finishing up on F on the thirteenth
fret without moving my hand position, things like that, and changing positions.
I practiced that and started to experiment. The stretching was hard at first,
but it's perfectly natural now."
"There were a couple of guys I met, classical guitar players, who asked
me if I'd been taught, because my left hand was very legitimate, as a classical
player's. I didn't do it like that- nobody told me about it. I just looked at
the problem and said, 'Well, logically it would be better for your hand to be
in this position."
Part and parcel of his smooth articulation is the way he uses his right hand.
With a standard flat pick he employs just enough energy to set the string in
motion, and picks only the requisite number of times to keep the momentum during
the run. It's easier said than done:
"It's been really laborious, that part of it, because one of the big problems
I had was trying to make notes sound even. So that you couldn't tell the difference
between them, or making the ones I didn't pick sound louder than the ones I
did. That's gradually gotten better over the years. When I heard some of the
old things, they're so primitive to me. The new record, even that's starting
to sound old - it's a year old now - but at least it doesn't hurt as much as
listening to some of the other older things."
Allan Holdsworth stands somewhere between jazz and rock, yet he refuses to be
considered a fusion player - or a jazzman for that matter. He exhibits strong
opinions when asked to place himself on the spectrum.
"I consider myself just an adventurous sort of rock player; just a bit
sick of rock in the past, basically. I started out as a pop guitar player, because
that's all I could play. Then I got involved with rock, early - the blues thing,
I couldn't do that, really. Well, I did it for a while. It was just part of
a development and I was unhappy the whole time. I wanted to move on. But as
far as I can see I am a rock guitar player who's unhappy with staying a rock
guitar player.
"At the same time I've no desire whatsoever to be what someone would call
a jazz player who just plays the same shit- excuse the language - as I've been
hearing for years.
"It drives me bats to hear that same old bebop approach to things. There
was nothing wrong with it then, but it seems weird for people to do that now.
'Cause there are just so many things they could be doing. In essence, sometimes
people who are supposed to be 'jazz' players are actually less jazz players
than I am! At least I'm not trying to play something that I've heard a lot before,
or go through the motions. These musicians are actually fantastic, but something
I've seen quite a lot of in the past few years is people trying to play like
other people, old. When those guys were doing it originally, when Charlie Parker
was doing it, that was new!
"There are people playing jazz now who are supposed to be improvising -
really, they're not, because they're just applying the formulas to every piece
of music they do. That's not jazz to me; jazz means to really really try to
improvise. To approach each song in the same way is over. So it means music
has become formulated, that everybody plays the same cliched things over the
changes and they play them the same way. That can't be jazz anymore, because
people are just playing what they've learned, what they've practiced. I feel
like a rock guitar player, which is what I am, really, rather than somebody
going through the motions. I'm playing to further things."
Holdsworth also refuses to be put in that nether region called fusion, though
his music has elements of rock and post-Coltrane jazz. "A lot of fusion
players sound the same because they're trying to squeeze bebop into a rock context,"
he insists. "They start out playing the usual old tired rock phrases then
they go on to the tired jazz phrases over the rock .There's got to be something
else!"
Though for Allan it's "all in the hands", his hardware setup facilitates
his playing style. His single-humbucker, Strat-like guitars are set to play
easily, to offer almost no resistance with extra-super-light gauge strings and
a very low action. He speaks of equipment with precise glee, and since he maintains
his own guitars, he knows what he likes: "At the moment I'm using two Charvel
Strats that Grover Jackson, of Charvel, did especially for me - they're made
out of slightly different wood and the neck dimensions vary slightly. They're
wider at the top of the neck, I think it's two and a quarter inches, than at
the body end, which is nice 'cause normally Fenders are very narrow there, and
the strings pop off the end. So there's an eighth of an inch on either side
of each E string all the way up the neck. I hate it when you go off the fingerboard,
which is easy to do when you use thin strings."
And Allan is very particular about his strings: "I use singles, custom
gauged strings, not packets 'cause I never get a packet of strings that feels
right. I use D'Addario strings 'cause I think they're the best. I like the thin
core and the flexible feel they have. The reason for the lightness is the sound.
Actually, for the most comfort I'd probably have to go with at. least one gauge
higher to get the strings to feel as I'd like them to. The most comfortable
strings for me to use for chords and balance are .009s, but I prefer the sound
of the .008s - they've got that zing, that little ping."
Allan has settled on DiMarzio's replacement pickups. The electronic guts of
his guitars are fashionably sparse:
"Single humbuckers with volume and tone. DiMarzio is making a prototype,
testing some things out on me. I want a pickup that's not the fashionable heavy
output-high magnet. I'm looking for almost the opposite of that, which is probably
the original that they selected for the original humbucker. Because that takes
some beating, the balance between the magnet, the string pull and the natural
output of the pickup. I've been using the PAF-type pickups."
While Allan was with Tony Williams he used the vibrato arm on his ax - an SG
back then - and it became his trademark, extending his legato runs by changing
pitch within a note. Things have changed since then: "Most of the time
I leave it alone. I'll first find one that works real well, that can do anything,
really, and I'll not use it too much at all, because it's the fashion now and
I don't want to know about fashion. It's like looking over my shoulder, if you
know what I mean, because my sound's changing."
The amps he prefers are solid state amps that sound like tubes. Made in England,
unlike most setups they reside in a rack with the rest of Allans' electronic
gear: "I've got two Hartley-Thompson amplifiers, they're in the rack. They
make combo's normally, but I was trying to make a rack up, and I thought I could
incorporate them, so I did. 'Cause originally I was going to use them for chords
as well as solos. But we had some problems with the power supply and I wasn't
able to get the amount of wattage that I needed for the chords. So I finished
up using what I could for that, the two Twins."
Allan plans an album of solo guitar, too. His choice to tour with a new band
fulfilled his desire to play in a trio, where he could carry the entire weight
of soloist and accompanist. From his reception, he appreciated the loyalty of
his fans: they kept his memory alive during the hard times, and without them
Allan Holdsworth might still be fixing other people's instruments, rather than
defining how they'll be used in the future. So here's gratitude for you: 'I'd
like to thank all those people who've said all those things about me. It's really
nice of them, and to go play for them is an incredible experience. Because I
was just about ready to go under. Thanks, people! I'm still doing it!"
A style apart