You don’t conduct an interview with Ted Nugent as much as you toss out some questions and try to hang on while he answers them. Picture a rider on a bucking bronco for a visual reference. He never edits himself and not a single thought gets censored. He has been playing guitar for more than 40 years and still finds himself touring the world and performing in front of audiences that love him just as much today as they did decades ago.
He recently released a new CD titled
Love Grenade and a live DVD called
Sweden Rocks. Both contain exactly what you’d expect from the Madman of Detroit: Chunky riffs dripping with grease and groove; big vocals singing about young lust and warriors and the thrill of the chase.
Nugent plays with the same fire and finesse he’s exhibited for years now. In fact, nothing has changed about
Ted Nugent - as
Ultimate-Guitar would soon find out.
The phone rang at 8:02. Ted was calling and though I’d barely uttered hello, he was already into the Nuge mode.
"How you been after all these years?" he asked, talking a blue streak like a man who’d just snorted a big line of cocaine. But Ted Nugent has never done drugs in his life and the energy is all organic, probably stemming from the hunting/killing thing he’s done all his life - stalking animals and eating them. Lots of protein in red meat undoubtedly.
I’ve known Ted for a long time and he’s always been like this: animated, uninhibited, and bigger than life. But a total professional who loves what he does. In fact, later in the interview, he’ll apologize for calling a couple minutes late (the interview was slated for 8:00 AM) because he had to wait for his laptop to warm up.
But Ted didn’t have to warm up because he’s perpetually on fire.
UG: What is a typical day like- if there is such a thing as a typical day - in the life of Ted Nugent?
Ted Nugent: Have you ever seen any documentaries on the Normandie Invasion? Like that. I’ve been trying to explain it for years. It’s really pretty simple; I’m a really simple guy. I do have a lot of irons in the fire and that goes all the way back to the inexplicable capability of prioritization of my teenage years. Call it instinctual or just call it selfish, I don’t dare tackle things that I can’t do my very best at. Now, considering all the things that I’ve got goin’ and I don’t even know if you’re really privy to all the stuff that’s goin’ on on a daily basis, it really is a tsunami of activities.
One of the prioritizations was a direct result of the inescapable cause and effect of the hunting lifestyle. If you want water, you’ve got to go down to the stream and get it; if you want heart, you’re gonna have to cut some damn wood; if you want food, you better be clever and stealthy and practice hard 'cause you’re gonna have to kill something.
And that is about rugged individualism as optimized by the essence of team effort. So, as my rock and roll team: The band, crew, management, to my personal assistant, to the editors of Spirit of the Wild TV, and (everybody). But making sure that I never ever agree to do anything until I am 100 per cent convinced that my team will not let me know.
Did this whole approach to life come from your family upbringing?
Yeah, can you say militant? My dad was a drill sergeant in the US Army Cavalry at the age of 19 and he never really quit the modus operandi, you know what I mean? So, there was a lot of discipline in the family and you couldn’t get away with laziness or, in our case, ineffectiveness. You just had to do the job perfect.
Like when I’m on stage with Mick Brown on drums and Greg Smith on bass, (they bring to my) music the ferocity, the total, brutal animal conviction to the defiance of my music. It’s not like I have to direct anybody; I don’t have to worry about where we’re going during this song or if I go off on a musical tangent, they’ll be right there. That’s the kind of excellence I surround myself with.
I want to go off on a bit of a tangent here, Ted.
I love tangents.
OK. It’s something I’ve always been curious about and that’s why you never served in Vietnam. You were of the age but you had a deferment, correct? If there was ever anyone in this world who was meant to be a solider, it was Ted Nugent.
Absolutely. But there’s two dynamics at play here. The most profound and needs to be examined, scrutinized, and learned from is that I, the son of a WWII and Korea vet, graduated 1967, I could not have told you what communism was. I had no idea; I’d never studied anything about communism. I didn’t know anything about WWII; I’d never heard of Auschwitz; I had never heard of the Bataan death march. I was a perfect example of a clueless kid that was victimized by the engineered ignorance of the American education system.
Now, compound that with the environment I found myself in. I was owned by the music, I was possessed, obsessed, committed to and one with the music. I was so overwhelmed by the adventure, by the exploration of my music, that I was more tainted by the denial of the media and my generation - I would never call it peer pressure because I don’t have any peers and they’re incapable of pressure - but I was influenced by the abject anti-Americanism.
I enrolled in the Oakland Community College just outside of Detroit and when I came up for my draft, I went in for my physical. Now, a lot of things were reported: That I shit in my pants to get out of the draft. I did not shit my pants; I did not avoid the draft. I was not inclined to volunteer because I was an idiot.
Over the years, I have been educated about how freedom is attained by waging war against evil. I have more than made up for it to the very best of my ability by working close with the military and law enforcement. I conduct federal raids with federal marshals and FBI and I’ve got six felony arrests to my credit. I’ve also been in the front lines of Fallujah and Gandahar and unnamed Afghanistan mountain passes putting myself intentionally in harm’s way to number one, serve my country; and to assist and support and salute those who are sacrificing so much so that I can have an American dream.
That being said, your overview is obvious and accurate and I was late in coming but I do what I can.
Fair enough. Now tell me about playing your 6,000th gig.
How about that shit?
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| "I escape the music during my primal scream orgy of the hunting season." |
And that begs the question: Does concert 6,000 feel like the 60th gig you ever did?
Here’s the beauty, here’s why I love me! This is why I am God’s example of how a man is supposed to live if I may be so bold. That 6,000th concert was like my first piece of ass. It was like the first time I dragged the amplifier out of the garage and played Walt’s Malt Shop on Grant River and Warwick in Detroit in 1959. That night, Joe Pedorsik, my original guitar teacher from 1958, joined me 40 years later, that’s 50, 50 years later on stage and we played the same song we had played 50 years prior and that was “Honky Tonk.” And it was a moment of infamy, Plus, Johnny Badanjek, the phenomenal drummer from the Detroit Wheels, a legend unto himself and deserved so, he got up and played “Jenny Take A Ride” with me, one of my most powerful musical influences of all times. And then Derek St. Holmes came up and sang “Hey Baby” and “Stranglehold” and “Dog Eat Dog” and “Just What the Doctor Ordered.” I had my family and 22,000 of my closest buddies. It was a night to never, ever forget.
But I got to tell you, Steve, and a lot of people have not grasped this over the years - I so escape the music during my primal scream orgy of the hunting season, that when I grab that guitar after returning (from) so far back to my sharp-stick, protein-procuring origins, that when I pick up the guitar, fire comes out. Every damn time. The real interview that needs to be conducted is with Greg Smith my bass player and Mick Brown or quite honestly any of my musicians. Because they’ll tell ya that every time I pick up the guitar, jeez, these cool guitar licks come firing out of my hands because I can’t wait to do it because it’s so fresh and raw again. Because I just got done gutting a moose or something! Sitting in a tree over a swamp for six days.
I get so cleansed from the silence and the removal, that I’m probably the only guitar player - and this is really what I believe, a lot of people criticize me and call me an egotistical prick for saying things like this but I’m gonna say it because I believe it - that goes back to that first campfire when the first guitar twang happened on a bow string on top of a drum on a stretched hide in a cave. I mean, I really live that life; I live an aboriginal life, kill shit with a sharp stick, and get real close to it, track it, follow the blood, and skin it, gut it, butcher it, hang it, cook it, and eat it. I’m the only guy that still does that that plays guitar. And I’m gonna tell ya, that is the essence of the music origin; I’m convinced of that.
One of my most obvious shortcomings in life is to calm the fuck down when I get ready to play. I’ll play myself like a little Caucasian asshole, too fast, without enough groove, if I don’t manage my energy to the groove and the grind and the grunt and the spirit of the music. That’s why Mick and Greg and I, every night, we punch our fists together and we chant James Brown lyrics, Wilson Pickett lyrics, to make sure we keep it primal. So it’s not that Motorhead whiteness; no offense against Motorhead if they like that whiteness, God bless 'em. But I don’t.
You manage to groove and grind on the live Sweden Rocks DVD.
That was Mick Brown and Barry Sparks, two astonishing rhythm Gods. Again, I just get so giddy, I often ask my team, I go, “Is it as good as I think it is? Can it be this fuckin’ good? Was that the best 'Dog Eat Dog’ we ever performed?” That’s a new chick in the front row; that’s a new guy; that’s a young kid in the front row; that’s an old guy in the front row that I see some Nugent miles on. You know what I mean? And I see this shit eating grin and the clenched fist and people howling with laughter and enjoyment.
Have you watched the DVD top to bottom?
I have not watched the whole thing since it came out. But I’ve got an awful lot of input from an awful lot of people. That’s another thing that goes back to a previous question, Steve - I don’t dwell on my stuff. After I first looked at it two damn years ago, I haven’t seen it since.
I clicked on Fox News and my second favorite girl in the world after Mrs. Nugent is Megan Kelly. Ever seen her? Do yourself a favor and identify her and get naked. Megan Kelly is so fine and here is Megan Kelly glowing and smiling and “Cat Scratch Fever” is ripping off the television speakers. And it was just adorable. It was the 17th of September, 2008, here’s a song that’s gotta be 100 years old, and here’s this fine ass bitch grinning and doing a little shoulder shaking on TV to “Cat Scratch Fever.”
So my point is, I heard “Cat Scratch Fever” then and I heard it on the radio yesterday, but I don’t listen to “Cat Scratch Fever.” You know what I mean? I play it really perfect, even better than the original. I hear it enough in an inescapable way that I don’t have to go back and listen.
That’s such an interesting point you bring up, Ted. “Cat Scratch Fever” is on the Sweden Rock DVD and …
Every night.
Every night, yeah, and you hear it on TV and radio. My first instinct is that “Cat Scratch Fever” is the ultimate Nugent riff but then your performance of “Stranglehold” on the Sweden Rocks DVD makes me rethink that position. You introduce that song as“The number one guitar lick in the world” and now I’m thinking, “Wait a minute, maybe 'Stranglehold’ is Ted’s most famous lick. Is that the one that stands up better than any of them?
I think so; I think the intro in “Stranglehold” and obviously the entire composition and performance; God bless Cliff Davies (drums on the original track) and Rob Grange (bass on the original track) and Derek St. Holmes. My God, every guitar player dreams of a band like that. But yeah, when that son of a bitch comes over the radio, something’s gonna happen.
I believe and this is probably the most outrageous statement … you’re about to hear the most outrageous statement I’ve ever made. Think about that for a minute? When Bo Diddley passed away, Billy Gibbons perfected the identification of what Bo Diddley brought us. That is, when that Bo Diddley rhythm comes on particularly performed by Bo, an infant not an hour old will grind to that rhythm; a dog will alter his gait when the Bo Diddley rhythm’s going on.
You know what I think, Steve? I think “Stranglehold” is equal to that!
Interesting, man.
That’s very interesting. That’s a pretty bold, cocky fuckin’ statement; maybe my best ever but I absolutely believe that. You start that fuckin’ lick anywhere anytime for anybody, and you got 'em; the lick’s got 'em.
Do you remember when you first played it if it struck you as something important?
I knew when I first played it that I loved it; it was me, it was the musical me. But I felt that when I played the opening lick to “Love Grenade,” too.
Exactly. The title track of your new album is like a modern-day “Stranglehold.”
I think! And even the opening lick to “Still Raising Hell” on the Love Grenade CD; the opening lick to “Girl Scout Cookies.”
Very cool.
Get the fuck outta here! And I’ll tell you what, I’ll tell you how brave I am. I’m turning up my amp right here, I’m grabbing this custom made guitar that Ed Roman made me out in Las Vegas and I’m gonna play a lick and show you that I can’t pick up the guitar … I haven’t picked up a guitar since yesterday morning.
(Note: Ted starts riffing on his guitar. I have done about 1,500 interviews in my life and I have to admit that this was one of the cooler moments I’ve ever experienced. Being serenaded by the Nuge).
(Plays a series of licks) Now, that was a pretty cool lick! Did you hear that?
(Plays some more riffs) Now, isn’t that fuckin’ cool? I’ve never played that lick before; I don’t know what the fuck that is.
Do I get a get a co-writing credit?
Hell, no! Then I’d have to share all my co-writing credits with pussy. And you’d have the unique distinction of being my only male pussy influence.
(Ted blazes away for about 30 seconds) See, I’d have to put it down or I’ll never do the interview with you. Here’s Ted Nugent in a nutshell: I fuckin’ love it! I love the fuckin’ licks, I love the energy and the electricity of what the guitar provides me. I’m 60-motherfucking years old and I had to put it (guitar) down or I wouldn’t continue the interview. I love it more now than when I first got that electric guitar and plugged into that little Magnavox amplifier and started making noises.
Interview Jack Blades who co-produced the Love Grenade CD and he’ll tell you every time I walked into the studio and started tuning my guitar, masterpieces What is that? Is that a new one? We gotta use that; you gotta make a song out of that one.”
That’s how “Love Grenade” happened; I was all done writing for the record. I even told myself, “No more, this is it; we gotta record this shit.” I came into rehearsal one day and I went (mimics a high energy Nugent lick) “drrrrdrrr drrrr nrrrnrrr drrrdrrr drrr rrrrrrrrr.” And everybody went, “Alright, what’s that?” And I went, “I don’t know, what is that? It’s fuckin’ cool whatever it is.”
What struck me immediately when you picked up the guitar a second ago, if I was in the next room, I’d go, “Oh, Nugent is playing.” How do I know instantly that it’s Ted Nugent I’m listening to? I mean, if I didn’t know it was you obviously, what is it about the tone and that unique kind of rhythm thing you do and that finger vibrato that instantly tells someone it’s Ted Nugent? That guitar tone you just cranked up is the same sound you had 30 years ago …
Yep …
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| "Call it instinctual or just call it selfish, I don’t dare tackle things that I can’t do my very best at." |
How do you describe to someone what that is? Can you sort of dive inside yourself and try to describe it?
The best way to put it is number one, it’s as uninhibited, irreverent, defiant, volatile, and fuck you as I can be. And I don’t even try, I’m really a nice guy (adopts a quiet, modest tone). I don’t think defiance; I don’t think uninhibited. But it comes out that way and let me tell you why. And nobody has ever asked me this before, this is a great question, I’ll give you a greater answer: I wasn’t very good; everybody played better than I did. Everybody played “Johnny B. Goode” perfect; I couldn’t figure that shit out. Everybody played on the Stones lick and I couldn’t; everybody played “Paperback Writer” and I couldn’t figure the fucker out.
So, what happened in my inept mutilation of the fundamental guiding licks, you know what I mean? When you try to play “Johnny B. Goode” and … in fact, I’m gonna show you real quick here (Ted plugs the guitar back in).
When I started playing, I let my ears be the guide; Lonnie Mack’s version of “Wham” and “Susie-Q” and maybe somebody can get that tone again. Of course, I’m the closest. Everybody else went (plays “Johnny B. Goode” lick on the guitar the way it’s originally played). So, I couldn’t get it so I went (plays a bastardized version) and what you may remember was part of the solo in “Dog Eat Dog.” So, my failure to get all the notes right was the greatest gift a guitar player could ask for because I sounded different but I had the grind and the rhythm down and I’d play alternative notes that were against the rules.
Everybody else played “Johnny B. Goode” or pick a song, it doesn’t matter (Ted plays the riff to “Day Tripper”). I’d keep the grind but I’d just make up other notes.
For example, how’s this? Hear that (Ted plays a simple blues in A and slides into the riff from “Satisfaction” and then morphs into “Cat Scratch Fever”)? Know what I mean? It’s just the same thing but I fucked it up, heh heh heh heh! How beautiful is that? If you’re supposed to do anything to rock and roll, it’s go fuck it up. Now I’m not talking fuckin’ it up like the Stooges by just not even being able to tune their guitars and having no sense of rhythm. I’m talking genuflecting at the altar of what Bo and Chuck and the Beatles and Stones and the Yardbirds and Lonnie Mack, Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Wilson Pickett, James Brown, I can go on and on. Genuflecting with genuine reverence to the guiding spirit of that groove, the performance, the tightness, the tone, all the important positives, but then disobeying the rules of the game note-wise and grind wise.
Steven, explain to how I ever came up with this note (plays “Journey to the Center of the Mind”)? That note does not belong there and I never even knew why. I was 17, I went, “I don’t know what it is but it sure sounds cool.” I couldn’t even explain how it whined and it cried and it was a lamenting and it was a semi-tone. But not until I jammed with David Letterman’s band and Paul Schaeffer and the guys, 40 fuckin’ years later, Paul came in and about hugged me and said, “That guitar note in 'Journey to the Center of the Mind’ is the greatest guitar note of all times! I never thought anybody ever played it.” And then he identified it what was a flatted 7th minor or whatever. I go, “Is that what that was?” And it fit which is why it did sound fuckin’ cool. And I was 17, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I just grabbed that motherfucker (impersonates a guitar feeding back on the “Journey …” lick) nnnnnnnNNNNNN gaagaa gaa, and a little bit of that B.B. King fuckin vibrato going on. Get the fuck outta here.
So, I picked up on the best of the best by being influenced by the most profound soulfulness of the masters that influenced me. And again, it’s not just the guitar players: It’s Jr. Walker’s sax and James Brown’s voice and Masio’s (Parker, Brown’s sax player) horn, you know what I mean? I revered the essence of their musicality but then I found my own notes. I’ll never forget, some guitar magazine was talking about the scales I was using; I went, “I don’t think so; I don’t even know a scale, I couldn’t play a scale for you.” I made a comment one time, “The only scale I have is what I hang my dead deer from.”
I both revere and defy all that is musical and I think that’s the ultimate answer to your question. That’s why you know it’s me because none of my notes are predictable. That’s why we all love Hendrix, which is why we all love Eddie Van Halen, and you know what? I think they’re the only two I can think of where they just absolutely throw a grenade in the Mel Bay guitar book.
Jeff Beck?
Jeff Beck, too; yes, you’re absolutely correct about that. Especially later on beyond Truth.
Blow By Blow.
Yeah, when he really started getting’ quirky.
(Ted picks up the guitar and plays the lick to “Over Under Sideways Down).
It’s the exact tone, isn’t it?
(In fact, Nugent had dialed in a pretty remarkably similar tone. This in itself revealed a lot about Ted since he truly understood not only the beauty of Beck’s playing but appreciated the specific textures he was creating back in the day).
How about this? (Nugent plays the riff from “I Ain’t Superstitious”). No, I can get you a better tone than that (and refines the sound). You know what I mean? I love all that shit!
What was that like when you first toured and you were surrounded by the likes of Beck and Clapton and Hendrix and then Billy Gibbons … there were no bad players back in the day.
What a blessing, huh? And again, they so revered their founding fathers and all of them you just mentioned, you can hear Chuck and Lonnie and B.B. and Duane Eddy. These guys were tone explorers; we were all an advanced scout team for the Lewis & Clark of tone. And because I picked up on a Gibson Byrdland, I was already so unique in my sound because you just can’t do that, you can’t get that sound anywhere else.
Was the choice of the Byrdland another anti-reaction to the fact that everybody else was playing Les Pauls and Strats?
Well, you know, I wasn’t even conscious of how this guy got that sound or how this guy got that one. Because I remember Chuck Berry, he played a (Gibson) 350 but I didn’t really know; I just knew it was a cool looking guitar. Then the Beach Boys ripped off Chuck’s licks as did the Ventures, and I don’t mean in a mean way, in a respectful way, and they were doing it on Fenders.
And that was very attractive itself but the day the earth stood still, I’m gonna say summer of 1960 when my band the Lourdes opened up for Billy Lee & the Rivieras at the Walled Lake Casino outside of Detroit and Jimmy McCarty on guitar was playing a Byrdland through a Fender Twin amp and I saw God. His sound was Lonnie Mack but better, Chuck Berry but better; it was the Ventures but better. And he played all the strings and he flailed on it. I mean, nobody was playing that huge 6-string sweep. We’re talking 1960 and he was playing these grace rhythms (picks up the guitar and plays some McCarty-influenced riffs ala “Jenny Take A Ride”), that chucka chucka between every theme line.
And that’s what separated me from the rest of the world. That’s why “Cat Scratch …” has the pedal tone and “Stranglehold” and “Dog Eat Dog” and “Still Raising Hell” and “Girl Scout Cookies” and certainly “Love Grenade.” Yeah, Jimmy defined it right then and there. With the Byrdland, you’ve gotta go chucka chucka between the licks or the motherfucker will feedback, you know?
You talk about the pedal tone as a key element of your riffs - a lot of what you do is in A to allow for those kinds of open chords?
“Jenny Take A Ride,” of course isn’t mine, that’s in F; I love A, I love the open E, I mean, “Great White Buffalo,” God help us all; what a great lick that is. I was only 22 or 23 when I come up with that one. So, yeah, I love the big A, no question about that.
We’ve touched on a few tracks from the Love Grenade CD; you performed “Still Raising Hell” on the Sweden Rocks DVD as a way to sort of introduce the Love Grenade CD that would follow? Was “Still Raising Hell,” in your head, the most representative track? Or was it something you just thought would translate live? Actually thinking about it now, the Sweden Rocks DVD was recorded in 2006 so that song has been around for a while?
A lot of these songs just spontaneously erupted at soundchecks and backstage when I was dicking around. And somebody comes over and goes, “What the hell is that?”
And another thing about the DVD is, you play the Byrdland for the first four or so songs and then you whip out the Les Paul. The first song you play is “Free For All” and then you play the Paul for the rest of the show.
Yeah, and isn’t that strange? If ever the Byrdland was essential, it’s in the song “Free For All,” for God’s sake. But again, there’s one of the questionable sides to the kid in the garage at the age of 60: If I feel like it, I’m gonna do it.
It’s like with the Damn Yankees, I just felt like playing the PRS. Thank God I picked up the PRS in the studio one time and started playing “Little Miss Dangerous.” I fuckin’ love that song; that song defines the PRS as far as I’m concerned. A lot of the guys that use the PRS, they could be just about any guitar, but on “Little Miss Dangerous” that can only be a PRS. And some of the other songs I use it on especially with the Damn Yankees. My God, the “Coming of Age” guitar solo, I would have never done the finger tapping if it wasn’t for the PRS.
What you saw on Sweden Rocks, I just felt like pulling out the Les Paul for one night. Obviously we should celebrate the playability, the supreme playability of Les Pauls. Some better than others and I just happen to own probably the finest five Les Pauls in the history of mankind.
Can you describe that guitar you used on the DVD?
When we went over to Europe, I did not bring either of my '59s because they’re just too damn valuable for international travel. But that was a reproduction 'Burst they made for me. I’ve gotta tell ya, it’s a stone cold son of a bitch. Then I played the red, white and blue one, the American flag one, and I played that constantly during the last four five years of tours. All I can tell you is that when I swap between the American flag Les Paul and the repro 'Burst, they’re just butter in my hands. They make me play different and I just love 'em.
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| "I was owned by the music, I was possessed, obsessed, committed to and one with the music." |
Covering “Journey to the Center of the Mind” on the Love Grenade CD was pretty nostalgic.
How cool was that? We played it off and on forever; I still love the song and I heard that song just the other day here in Michigan. They played “Threadbare,” “Hey Baby” and “Journey to the Center of the Mind” for a three-fer from Uncle Ted. What a great span of music that was. It’s a great piece of music and again that’s (recites original lineup of Amboy Dukes) Steve Farmer on rhythm guitar; Dave Palmer on drums; John Drake on lead vocals; Andy Solomon on keyboards; and the amazing Greg Arama on bass guitar. And I remember it like it was yesterday and these are just astonishing virtuosos dedicated to their craft.
The reason that song ended up on Love Grenade was because I was in the studio one day … when I tune my guitar, I tune up and then I play a song or I start a lick or I start a pattern to see how the tuning parlays to the pattern I might want to play. I started playing that and Tommy Clufetos was on drums and Barry Sparks on bass guitar and they come right in with me and started playing it.
(Ted turns up the volume on his guitar and begins playing the lick to “Journey to the Center of Your Mind”).
I was 18 (plays the riff) but the thing is, it turns into a 7th chord instead of just a barre chord. And then I orchestrated the second guitar (plays the ascending A to C section); I mean that could have been a fuckin’ horn section.
And dear God almighty (plays the sinewy solo). How the fuck could I have come up with that incredible melodic soulful pattern at a very non-melodic, non-soulful age? I attribute it to all my black influences so when we started playing it and the guys asked me about the parts, I kind of explained my orchestrational vision. And the guys were fascinated that I even had an orchestrational vision back then; I was coming from playing Motown songs where the guitar and the piano and the horn section really worked hand in hand like with the James Brown stuff that we played and the Sam & Dave stuff that we played.
So, we had to record it (for the Love Grenade CD)'cause the guys loved it; what am I gonna tell 'em, no?
Talking about orchestrating and arranging, you do some pretty deep playing on the instrumental, “Eagle Brother.”
Beautiful; it’s a musical adventure if you’re into the spiritual side especially from an earthly standpoint. It’s been played at funerals and baptisms and graduations and marriages and the reuniting of feuding brothers. It’s an aboriginal lovefest of my fellow man.
If we don’t bring this to a close, Ted, I’m going to run out of tape. So, we’re going to do a quick fade and have you give me 25 words on how it feels to be part of the Guitar Hero World Tour game.
I love technology though it mostly confuses me. A generation that is intrigued by that technology is getting a good dose of great music whether its by Van Halen or the Kinks or the Yardbirds or Aerosmith or Ted Nugent. It’s all good and I’m very proud to be a part of it.
25 words on the Damnocracy project.
A total joy; an absolute musical adventure that I knew what it was going to involve and my expectations were more than delivered. I enjoyed every greasy harmonious and not-so moment; I thought it was a great TV show. I was a little let down that they didn’t emphasize more of the music because we had some jam sessions late in the night and the world should get witness of that. My God, Jason Bonham and what Scott Ian brought to it was just wonderful.
Jason was a bit disappointing, however.
He was too hesitant; he didn’t plunge like Scott and I and I think at some point Evan (Seinfeld) did as well. And certainly Sebastian (Bach), in fact his nemesis might be his plungeability. I was a little confused that a guy carrying on John Bonham’s tradition so effectively and as a young guy that he didn’t let himself go more. I was a little surprised by that as well.
25 words on the greatest guitar playing you ever witnessed.
There are so many, Steven. I would say that Stevie Ray Vaughan delivered more than anybody because of his overt simplicity but unidentifiable deep soulfulness to every note executed. He played the most simple of things in the most soulful of delivery. Remember, I got to tour with ZZ Top and even just recently, this year, Billy just burned my soul; he has such a great touch. And the very first tour ever, I believe, national tour, was Van Halen opening for me. And I’ll never forget the pyrotechnics that he unleashed upon the world and I was right there for the first night going, “Holy shit, what is that?” It was very moving. And remember, I toured with Jimi Hendrix and I got to jam with Jimi Hendrix and I got to jam with Johnny Winter and Rick Derringer. My goodness, I’ve been to the mountaintop. I got to jam in a little club with B.B. King. Talking about learnin’ from the Gods! Yeah, I’ve been very, very fortunate.
But I would have to say live … man, I don’t know, all the ones I just mentioned, I can’t really give one more due than the other because they were all so moving. But to this day, my pivotal moment was watching Jimmy McCarty at Walled Lake Casino back in 1960; that was before they even changed the name to Mitch Ryder & the Detroit Wheels. It was still Billy Lee & the Rivieras. The tone and the authority with which he played really defined my musical landscape and I owe him a lot.
And we haven’t even mentioned Mike Bloomfield yet. There’s so many, it’s indescribable the amount of influence that exists out there.
Talking about moments that defined you, the first album you did as a solo artist, the Ted Nugent record, really had all the pieces in place. 25 words, please. Love Grenade is your 13th solo album and we’re not counting live albums here. But what you said musically on that debut record back in 1975, is still represented here 33 years later. Isn’t it?
No question; again I give the credit to Cliff Davies on drums; Rob Grange on the bass guitar; and certainly Derek St. Holmes on rhythm guitar and vocals. But also to Tony Reale who was the engineer and without question equal credit goes, and this is quite a statement, to Tom Werman. I would give as much credit to Tom Werman as I would my bandmates. He safeguarded the authority of our musical statement in making sure that the tones and the tightness and the intonation (was there). I can’t fail to mention Lew Futterman who was the executive producer but musically speaking, my band, Tom Werman and Tony Reale deserve as much credit as I do. Even though I created the songs and it was my baby but I was lucky to have such a team of incredible, gifted and dedicated gung ho music lovers that could execute my musical vision with perfection.
What a perfect conclusion to our interview because my opening statement was about rugged individualism as optimized via a dedicated team. That’s where I started this interview and that’s why that piece of music (Ted Nugent), I hear on Michigan radio to this day.
Interview by Steven Rosen
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