I had a chance to see Sting in concert a couple of weeks ago. If Curtis hadn't prompted me to hunt down tickets a day before the show, I probably wouldn't have bothered – but I'm very glad now that I did. As you'd expect, Mr. Sumner has surrounded himself yet again with some peerless musicians (especially on drums and lead violin), but on this tour, none of them played an electronic instrument. In other words, there were no keyboards. Should that be a good thing? Not as a rule (I'd still like to stay on the good side of my keyboard-playing friends...what very few I have), but the purely-analog instrumentation worked wonders for Sting's material. Drums, bass, two guitars (usually electric and acoustic), two violins (with one doubling on mandolin or mandocello occasionally) and voices kept everything very earthy and organic. My favourite approach.
As an incorrigible gearhead, I noticed Sting was playing his old Fender Precision bass, as he has done for several years now. This is a pre-1958 instrument (or replica thereof) and is therefore the earliest mass-produced model of electric bass – as primitive as it gets. A guitar-shaped plank of ash wood, one single-coil pick-up, a one-piece neck and a volume and tone control. Very few bassists these days play an instrument so austere. Even the paint job is spartan – a coat of blonde stain on the body, with the neck left in natural maple.
On a number of pieces, lead guitarist Dominic Miller played the guitar-equivalent of Sting's bassic bass – the Fender Telecaster. Like the P-bass, the Tele was designed by Leo Fender in the first year of the 1950's with massive input from local musical hotshots. At its trade-show debut, it was derided as 'the snow-shovel' and 'the canoe paddle' by competing manufacturers because no other guitar builders had 'til then thought seriously to build an electric guitar out of a solid piece of wood, let alone to attach the neck with (gasp!) screws, instead of the fussy mortise-and-tenon glued joint. The Tele (or as it was called for its first few months, the Broadcaster) was simultaneously futuristic and primitive.
Ironically, one could almost say the same for it today. Telecasters are probably more popular today than they've ever been, despite an explosion of makes, models and features in solid-body electric guitar design since the Tele's debut in 1950. Certainly, there are guitars out there that are more comfortable to play, made of more exotic woods, more sustaining in sound and arguably less conservative in shape – but that doesn't seem to matter. Listen to Roy Buchanan or Danny Gatton, Brad Paisley, Andy Summers, even the first Zeppelin album (I could go on and on) and there's that super-present, cutting, organic tone that can only be produced by a tele (or Leo's updated version after he sold Fender and formed G&L, the ASAT). Despite its distinctiveness, those who play teles still sound like themselves, too – individuality seems to be enhanced by those primitive single-coil pick-ups.
It could certainly be argued that there are many guitars and basses that are as good as or perhaps even superior to Leo's original P-bass and Telecaster. Leo, within the following decade, came out with the Stratocaster and Jazz bass while Gibson produced the Les Paul, SG and ES-335, Gretsch made its 6120 and Country Gentleman, etc, etc...but it's hard to imagine there won't always be a need for that basic two-pick-up twang-plank in some music or another. As in songwriting, there appear to be certain tone, themes or features that resonate deep and long – like a cold drink on a hot day. As a songwriter, that's a lot to aspire to, but the secret may be in Leo's own attitude toward his creation: he built the best instrument he could for the time, and he moved on. He didn't venerate his old design (in fact, he tended to denigrate them as old hat compared to his newer creations) and he didn't build them to be expensive collector's pieces for a day half a century later. He just poured his heart into making something good, durable and serviceable for the time. Not a bad guideline for songwriting either, I'd say.
As an incorrigible gearhead, I noticed Sting was playing his old Fender Precision bass, as he has done for several years now. This is a pre-1958 instrument (or replica thereof) and is therefore the earliest mass-produced model of electric bass – as primitive as it gets. A guitar-shaped plank of ash wood, one single-coil pick-up, a one-piece neck and a volume and tone control. Very few bassists these days play an instrument so austere. Even the paint job is spartan – a coat of blonde stain on the body, with the neck left in natural maple.
On a number of pieces, lead guitarist Dominic Miller played the guitar-equivalent of Sting's bassic bass – the Fender Telecaster. Like the P-bass, the Tele was designed by Leo Fender in the first year of the 1950's with massive input from local musical hotshots. At its trade-show debut, it was derided as 'the snow-shovel' and 'the canoe paddle' by competing manufacturers because no other guitar builders had 'til then thought seriously to build an electric guitar out of a solid piece of wood, let alone to attach the neck with (gasp!) screws, instead of the fussy mortise-and-tenon glued joint. The Tele (or as it was called for its first few months, the Broadcaster) was simultaneously futuristic and primitive.
Ironically, one could almost say the same for it today. Telecasters are probably more popular today than they've ever been, despite an explosion of makes, models and features in solid-body electric guitar design since the Tele's debut in 1950. Certainly, there are guitars out there that are more comfortable to play, made of more exotic woods, more sustaining in sound and arguably less conservative in shape – but that doesn't seem to matter. Listen to Roy Buchanan or Danny Gatton, Brad Paisley, Andy Summers, even the first Zeppelin album (I could go on and on) and there's that super-present, cutting, organic tone that can only be produced by a tele (or Leo's updated version after he sold Fender and formed G&L, the ASAT). Despite its distinctiveness, those who play teles still sound like themselves, too – individuality seems to be enhanced by those primitive single-coil pick-ups.
It could certainly be argued that there are many guitars and basses that are as good as or perhaps even superior to Leo's original P-bass and Telecaster. Leo, within the following decade, came out with the Stratocaster and Jazz bass while Gibson produced the Les Paul, SG and ES-335, Gretsch made its 6120 and Country Gentleman, etc, etc...but it's hard to imagine there won't always be a need for that basic two-pick-up twang-plank in some music or another. As in songwriting, there appear to be certain tone, themes or features that resonate deep and long – like a cold drink on a hot day. As a songwriter, that's a lot to aspire to, but the secret may be in Leo's own attitude toward his creation: he built the best instrument he could for the time, and he moved on. He didn't venerate his old design (in fact, he tended to denigrate them as old hat compared to his newer creations) and he didn't build them to be expensive collector's pieces for a day half a century later. He just poured his heart into making something good, durable and serviceable for the time. Not a bad guideline for songwriting either, I'd say.