I’ve always wondered when watching the techs and roadies do their thing prior to a concert how many of those folks are wishing/thinking/hoping that their turn in the spotlight is coming. In particular, it’s interesting to watch the various approaches guitar techs take in their on-stage gear checks: some are seen but never heard, listening to themselves through ear monitors as they rip off a quick run up the neck or chop out a couple of chords before putting the axe in the on-stage rack.
It’s the others that I wonder about, though: the ones who get a reaction from the crowd when they walk onstage with “so-and-so’s Les Paul, man!” It can be a little awkward – especially if the tech resembles “so-and-so” at all: there’s the obvious rise and fall of crowd noise as if to say, “Oh – you ain’t him.” But then there’s the plugging-in of the recognized axe – and if the accompanying signature amp is live and audible, there’s that moment where the tech is simply giving the fresh strings one final yank, yet can’t help but give in to the raw power of that Les Paul roaring through that ’65 Fender Deluxe or whatever. What to do: a recognizable lick from that particular band’s arsenal? A tried-and-true I’ve-only-got-10-seconds-so-I’d-better-make-it-good riff that players save for showdowns in the guitar showroom? Whatever: the guitar tech fires off a run, letting loose a blast of familiar-sounding noise. There are always a few in the audience that react; maybe they lock eyes with the tech for a moment and there’s a look of, “Yeah, you and I both know this is pretty damn cool, but I got shit I gotta go do …” and the guitar is hung and the tech disappears into the blackness of the wings.
These are some of the things I’ve wondered about.
But after hearing the debut album from Pilgrim and talking with the band’s guitarist/vocalist/songwriter, I don’t wonder at all about Paul McHugh – who also happens to be the guitar tech for The Drive-By Truckers. McHugh’s in a good place: he loves his “day job” with the Truckers – and his “night job” ain’t too shabby, either.
Pilgrim’s new self-titled debut is something to be proud of – and so is the fact that the band created Pilgrim entirely on their own terms: Paul McHugh may be part of the Drive-By Truckers’ team, but his music stands solidly on its own hind legs.
The connection with the Drive-By Truckers comes from the natural cross-pollination of the Athens, GA music scene. Athens may indeed be this time around’s version of the late 60s/early 70s Bay Area vibe, when players freely drifted in and out of each other’s orbits in both live and studio settings. Trucker Patterson Hood was a fan and supporter of McHugh’s band Mother Jackson since their formation in 2001. Mother Jackson (self-described as “what it would sound like if AC/DC and The Stooges had grown up in Georgia”) opened for the Truckers; the bands’ members jammed together; they were all friends.
By the late 2000s, McHugh was the only original member of Mother Jackson and though he was still playing music, the setting was really morphing into something new. In the meantime, the Truckers were headed out on the road and needed a truck driver – was McHugh interested? Sure enough; and when there was an opening for a guitar tech during the summer of 2012, the Truckers turned to the talent they had at hand. Since then, Paul McHugh has been the man who’s made sure Cooley and Hood’s guitars sound like Cooley and Hood’s guitars.
Back home in Athens, McHugh’s main musical focus was a trio consisting of himself, bassist John “TJ” Lord Velez-Machado, and drummer Matt Hudgins. There was an undeniable synchronicity amongst the three – a band was born; an album was to follow.
Some of the tunes on Pilgrim were taking form back in the Mother Jackson days, says McHugh; others showed themselves once Pilgrim gelled as a band. McHugh is a firm believer in the Keith Richards school of thought that “the songs are all up there somewhere – sometimes we’re just the antenna.”
Consider “Hey Eli (Where You Going?)”, which introduced itself initially when McHugh picked up an old acoustic guitar at a friend’s house: “I just started playing and out came the first line: ‘Hey Eli, where you going/I’m going down to Mrs. Fisher’s well …’ I thought, ‘What was that? ’
“The next day, I’m walking down the sidewalk and I could hear the next verse – it just kept coming,” he says, laughing.
Other times the process is pure Beat: McHugh sometimes takes advantage of his dreamscapes, hitting the desk immediately after waking, setting a timer and “just letting it fly, writing as fast as I can – whatever comes into my head; a total stream-of-consciousness thing.” The Kerouacian approach might spawn focused song ideas with fully-formed scenes or lyrics; other times, he’ll borrow from William Burroughs’ playbook, cutting and pasting random sentences and thoughts to construct a scenario that blossoms into a song.
The tracks on Pilgrim are full of big pictures, and although many of them tend to the dark side of things, McHugh says, “I’m basically a happy guy. I just like to get into those sorts of songs.”
When asked if he believes that playing his way through dark themes makes life a little brighter, he laughs. “Sure – or if your heart gets broken, take those feelings and write a song!”
Tunes in hand, McHugh, Velez-Machado (who not only is a great bass player, but might possibly hold the record for the longest name ever to be printed in an album’s credits) and Hudgins went into Athens’ Chase Park Transduction, laying down the album’s twelve basic tracks in a two-day explosion of creativity. McHugh praises Chase Park’s Drew Vandenberg’s talents as engineer and co-producer: “He’s unbelievable – just a great guy to work with.”
From there, overdubs and sweetening was done as time and money allowed, says McHugh: “I’d go out on tour with the Truckers, get some money ahead, and then come back and work on the album. That’s the great thing about what I do as a guitar tech with the Truckers: when you’re touring you’re on the road and busy – but then you come home and you have the time to put into whatever you’re working on.
“I couldn’t have made this album happen doing some 9-to-5 job,” he says. “I’m lucky to be doing what I’m doing and have the support of so many talented people.”
When it came time to overdub his guitar leads on Pilgrim, McHugh applied the same let-it-come-as-it-comes approach that he takes to songwriting. “I really believe that you have to play what you’re feeling at that moment to have it come across right,” he says. “Too much thought ahead of time and it’s not going to sound real.”
No surprise, the man who keeps Patterson Hood’s crunch crunching and Mike Cooley’s twang twanging has his own weapon of choice when it comes to his Pilgrim picking: an early 60s Gibson SG and a Traynor amp of similar vintage. “Other players will ask me, ‘Man, how do you get that tone ?’” he says, laughing. “It’s a pretty good combination.”
Indeed it is: the guitars on “Isabell” roar with Hendrixian glory, Velez-Machado and Hudgins laying down a rhythm base beneath it all that gives the song a vibe similar to U2’s “Bullet The Blue Sky”. When I ask McHugh how many tracks of Gibson growl he layered onto the song, he says, “Just two: the rhythm guitar and a lead over that.” I don’t doubt the man, but I have to go back with headphones later to satisfy my own curiosity and … sure enough: that is some phat-assed tone out of two guitars.
Or dig the razor-sharp slide work on “Let You Go” – a cool yin to the yang of the happy-go-lucky piano that provides the song’s underpinnings. “Plains” doesn’t need a vocal to get its pain across: McHugh’s SG weeps gently all on its own. The lyrics of “No Time For Dying” read like one of McHugh’s cut-and-paste jobs that created a scenario from his subconscious ramblings; the bass and drums give it focus; and the guitar leads the way from majestic shimmer early on to flat-out roar as the song draws to a close. “Ahhh – sometimes you just gotta have the big rock ending,” says McHugh.
The lovely vocal chorus in the background on “Rising Sun” courtesy of guests Madeline Adams and Melissa Colbert-Taylor was “the perfect touch,” says McHugh. “I could hear a backing vocal in my head, but what Melissa and Madeline did blew me away. They just came in and nailed it – bang.”
Another lovely – but unexpected – combination of sounds is offered up on “Blue Sarah”: while McHugh’s SG rasps out some arpeggioed chords, Jacob Morris’ cello and Jef Whatley’s accordion lay down a tension-filled layer of drone tones. The effect is chilling; and without giving away the song’s storyline, you find yourself rooting for Sarah and forgiving her for doing what she has to do to escape an abusive situation.
And then there’s “Devil In The Eye”: what sounds like (at least) a 50-year-old B3 organ is actually a Nord keyboard, says McHugh. (“Don’t tell me that – I don’t want to know,” I say. “Leave me to my imagination.”) A cool and gruff guitar bumps hips with the keys – the B3 tone eventually gives way to big ol’ fat ivories – as the song slowly makes its way to one of the most chaotic and unsettling endings since Wilco’s “Misunderstood”.
Since the album was recorded, McHugh’s buddy Matt Hudgins has left the band – Trucker Brad “EZB” Morgan (who contributed percussion to the recording) now holds down the drum berth in Pilgrim. The core trio may be joined by any number of guests on a given night, says McHugh: “It’s not like I can afford to hire extra people to sit in with us; it’s just a matter of who’s around for a show and wants to play. This Athens scene is full of incredibly talented people who really and truly love interacting with each other.”
As for the future, McHugh’s time will be split between road trips with the Truckers (and perhaps some studio duties later this year) and Pilgrim gigs when he’s home. “I have enough material written to go into the studio for a second album,” he says. “We’ll see …”
In the meantime, do yourself a favor and latch onto a copy of Pilgrim – or if you happen to be handy to the Athens area, catch one of their live shows.
I hear they have a helluva guitar tech.
*****
Brian Robbins does his own soundchecks and such over at www.brian-robbins.com
