I feel more free-I feel open, like I'm at home. But I do think working on my own changes the way I play a bit. That's the take.' We did have those conversations. “The guys in the studio would sometimes say, 'No, dude, that wasn't good enough' or 'That was cool. “It's a whole different vibe making a record on your own than working with producers,' Clark notes. Whereas his 2012 major-label debut, Blak and Blu, was a Los Angeles-based, three-way co-production between himself, Rob Cavallo, and Mike Elizondo, for the follow-up the guitarist set up shop at Austin's Arlyn Studios with a trio of engineers, Bharath “Cheex' Ramanath, Jacob Sciba, and Joseph Holguin. “All I would think about at school was, “Man, I can't wait to get home and figure out that second verse.'Ĭlark put his self-taught production chops to the test on The Story of Sonny Boy Slim. Nobody showed me how to record-I figured it out by myself.' I wanted to record my own demos, and little by little, just by doing gigs, I acquired enough gear to get things going. We had keyboards in the house, so I started playing them, too. She kind of lost interest, so there was this nice shiny drum kit waiting for me.

“My sister started playing drums when I played guitar. “I love playing guitar, but I get a lot of satisfaction from playing other instruments, too,' Clark says. But the Austin native is anything but a strict traditionalist, and on the new set he weaves psychedelic and Delta blues, chillaxed retro-soul, acoustic gospel, and gonzo garage rock into a personal sonic tapestry that's as daringly au courant as it is classic.

The album brims with the kind of fiery, emotive, and imaginative 6-string work that has prompted some writers to compare Clark to Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan.

While he doesn't play trumpet on his musically diverse and compelling new album, The Story of Sonny Boy Slim, the 31-year-old singer-guitar star gives pretty much everything else a go, functioning as a veritable (and astonishingly versatile) one-man band, tackling drums, keyboards, bass, finger snaps … oh, and, of course, the guitar. The funny thing is, Clark made good on most of his promises. And if that doesn't work, I'll play trumpet.' Or whatever. “My mother used to say to me, 'What if you can't be a guitarist? What then?' So I told her, 'If the guitar doesn't work out, then I'll play drums. had a backup plan-more than a few of them, in fact. Just in case this whole hotshot axe-man thing didn't pan out, Gary Clark Jr.

Epiphone gary clark jr casino blak blu