Warner Hodges Interview - Part One
October 19, 2002, Nashville, Tennessee
............ continued from pg. 2 ............

James: Well, Lori Timm from here in Nashville wonders: “When and where did he first realize, ‘Holy cow, I am really, really good at playing the guitar?’”
Warner: (big laugh) About a week ago. Y’all aren’t players, but, I mean, players will understand this. Well, hell - it’s almost like the AA thing. Have you ever heard the AA thing – you and your higher power, your God thing described as the rubber band stretched between – sometimes that rubber band is real tight, and sometimes it’s loose, and there’s slack in the rubber band.
James: No, I’ve never heard that.
Warner: And your connection with your higher power, sometimes it’s just – it’s right there. And other times, it’s a little wavy. It’s still there, it just isn’t really on. Guitar playing is that way to me. There’s times where everything’s effortless, everything’s easy, it’s all natural. You can just crawl out on that limb. You can try anything, the tree limb’s not going to break. You can just do.
Other nights, it’s forced. And you know the information, and it’s all up there in the computer, but you just can’t generate it down to the fingertips to make it happen. And everybody has a level of consistency they play at. Some years it seems like it’s just easier; some years it’s more difficult. I know I do take my quote-unquote talent and abuse the hell out of it. I go months at a time without ever touching a guitar. Of course, then when I pull it out, I’m rusty. And that’s my fault, because I haven’t taken care of what I should be taking care of.
James: Well, maybe I can offer a slightly different perspective to that question. When did you first start hearing the accolades? I mean, you were playing guitar in your parents’ bands from your teenage years. You must have heard, from your teenage years – at what point did those accolades start to build up to where you thought – I mean, the first couple of times, maybe you –
Warner: Well, I guess, in that aspect, probably my mother. My mother still swears to this day I’m the best guitar player she ever played with. The reason she says that, and I know it – I’m not the best country guitar player she’s ever played with. I’ve got the largest vocabulary musically of any guitar player she’s ever played with. Because I can play a Platters song. I can play a Kiss song. I can play a Patsy Cline song. I can play Parliament/Funkadelic. And I do have a wide vocabulary because of where I come from. And I think that’s where my mom is coming from.
And because I learned to play with them, that’s the way I learned how to play music. You listen to it twice, you better be able to play it the third time around. If you couldn’t do that, you weren’t going to be in the band. We’ll get somebody that can. You didn’t rehearse, you went out and played. They played four or five sets a night. That’s the way we did it. You had to learn a lot of material, and be able to regurgitate it fast. (pause.)
I guess at that point; my mother used to say that when I was a teenager. And all it was - to me, I took it for granted. It was just the fact that I also was listening to a bunch of other records too, not just hardcore country. But I had a wider vocabulary than most of the guitar players she dealt with. Most of the guitar players she dealt with were really s**t-hot country guitar players, but they wouldn’t have known a Rolling Stones record if it had hit them in the head. They knew nothing about that. Most of them probably didn’t listen to the Platters, and s**t like that.
I keep saying the Platters because – what’s that song, (sings) “Only You.” I could play that, my father couldn’t - so I was hot s**t. I knew the additional chord changes. All I had to do was show my dad, and then he knew it too – but, I could play that, she’d always wanted to sing it. So I was hot s**t. That was the first time. It was like, ‘Wow, okay, cool. Maybe I know something.’
James: Chris, why don’t you –
Warner: Did I explain that at all? I’m kind of trying to dodge that whole situation, guys, all right? (chuckles.)
Chris: I’m happy. This is going really good. I’ve enjoyed some of these answers a lot. “Okay, Warner,” this is from Tommy [Womack] -
Warner: Oh, yeah. You a creep!
Chris: “ - live ‘83-84, what was your amp and what was your distortion pedal? I know the guitar was the Jazzmaster and I know there’s a Strat pickup hard-wired into the middle position under the pickup and it’s always on, but what was the amp and the pedal?”
Warner: That would have been a…probably a 50-watt Marshall JCM. Yeah, JCM 50-watt Marshall. One twelve through an additional four-by-twelve combo. And the distortion pedal you’re looking for, Tommy, is a MXR Distortion Plus, buddy. The amp will be about as loud as it possibly can go. (laughter, Warner chuckles.) And that’s the same thing for “Hot Nights in Georgia,” Tommy. (chuckles.) “Nerdy question,” you a creep, man.
And – let’s just go on and get to the next one. The pickup selector switch. Is that right, or did I skip one on you?
James: Nope. We’re good here.
Chris: Yeah, I was really interested in this one, too -
Warner: Well, ask, ask.
Chris: - because I really wanted – this is from Graham Young in Canada.
Warner: Yeah.
Chris: “What I want to know is this: did Warner switch pick-ups in mid-lead during “Absolutely Sweet Marie?” Or did someone flick the pick-up selector for him when he flew up the neck to the high part? I have conducted numerous scientific studies involving Telecasters and beer that indicate that switching pickups as quickly as is done during ASM would be nigh impossible without at least one and possibly two extra hands. IF Warner did switch the pickups himself in mid-lead without overdubs, then I’d say that he’s a witch and we should burn him.”
Warner: ‘He’s a witch! He’s a witch!’ (chuckles.) No, there’s actually two ways to do it. I did the easiest way, which was have Jeff Johnson sit in front of me and change the pickup as I was playing. It was done on a Strat. The easier way, when you don’t have Jeff Johnson to sit in front of you and do it, is put a piece of duct tape where you want the pickup selector switch to stop, and use a Strat, not a Tele; because you can get to the pickup selector switch and still make the move. Or you can use a Tele, like I do, and put a Gibson three-way switch in it, not a Tele three-way switch. Thank you. And Tommy - it wasn’t two tracks, it was one. Jeff just switched the pickup.
James: We have a question about the early days, before you were even in the Scorchers.
Warner: Yeah?
James: About an injury that you sustained. Al Chambers is a UPS driver in Lincoln, Nebraska.
Warner: Mm-hmm. Lincoln, Nebraska, yeah.
James: “What worldwide delivery company did Warner E. work for when his hand was smashed on a conveyor?”
Warner: UPS.
James: And Thomas Faw of North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina wonders, “Is it true that due to an injury to your hand, you have a unique method of guitar playing and if so, how is it different from most?”
Warner: I worked at UPS when I was in college at MTSU. And they always beat in your head at UPS, if you saw a package laying on the floor, throw it up on the conveyor belt. Even if it’s the wrong belt, if it’s sitting on the floor, it’s not in a sort; it’s not moving. If you get it back up on a belt, even if it’s the wrong belt, at least it’s in a sort. They’ll find it and get it to the correct truck. And, like a dumb-ass, I bent over this belt, grabbed the package with my right hand, threw it up. Sat my other hand down on a track, and watched an eight hundred pound train-cart thing roll across my hand, and I watched all my fingertips blow out. (James and Chris groan.)
And they took me to the hospital, and the surgeon guys that were working on me kept wanting to put me to sleep. And I wouldn’t let them put me to sleep until my Dad got there. Because my [left] hand looked like I was easily going to be missing a couple, three fingers. I mean, it was pretty nasty. And I was thoroughly convinced they were going to cut off some of my fingers if they put me to sleep, and I knew my Dad would not let them cut off any of my fingers. They didn’t know it, but I was going to be a guitar player. And…so, I stayed awake, throwing up in one of their pails as they fixed my hand, until my father got there. As soon as he got there, I told them to put my ass down, (chuckles) which they did. And my Dad made sure they didn’t lop off any of my fingers.
But when my hand healed up, a cyst came up in my third finger. A really big cyst. I mean, it was like the size of a nickel turned sideways. My finger looked pregnant. And so they cut my finger open, took the cyst out, and I don’t have any feeling in my third finger, and haven’t had since I was about eighteen years old. I can still use the finger, but I can’t tell if I’m fretting the damned guitar – I can’t feel it.
So, because of that injury, I’ve got outrageous pinkie dexterity, ‘cause I kept playing with this finger wrapped up, and I learned how to use my pinkie to do all kinds of silly s**t, because I’d had to. The other finger wasn’t working. And I guess because of it, it’s created – guitar players all want to know about this s**t. I mean, who else cares. (pause.) I fret chords differently. I tend to find inversions differently. I have to try to play with three fingers and my thumb, rather than four fingers. One of the great things about playing country music is I learned how to do what’s called ‘thumb-overs,’ which most rock guys don’t do. You basically throw your thumb over the thumb over the neck, and use it for low strings. It’s basically a fifth digit. I use it as my fourth digit.
It always freaks out the guitar players, because they can’t make out the chords I’m playing. And I kind of get a real kick out of it, because I watch them trying to figure it out, and all I’m doing is playing a standard E chord, or a standard A chord, but it looks like hell to them. And they’re going to go home and woodshed over it, and I get a good chuckle out of it. It did help my playing immensely, because it caused me to have to look at things differently. That’s the injury. I don’t have any ill feelings toward UPS. I’m the guy that stuck my hand up there, like an idiot, and got it crushed. They didn’t do it for me. And they paid for all the worker’s comp, and then the day I went back to work, they fired me.

Chris: This is another one from Jeff Baker, and I really like this one, too. “What have been some of you favorite guitars? Is your attitude more like Angus Young’s (has he been playing the same freaking SG for 30 years now?) or even Bruce Springsteen (that same wooden Tele from the Born to Run album cover is still around), or is it a more disposable attitude of say a Pete Townshend? (I can only assume his attitude is that they are disposable since he breaks them.)”
Warner: Well, most of the guys that know me will know – to me, guitars are basically two-by-fours with f**kin’ wires. Who cares? I’m a Fender guy. I was raised on Fender products. I’m a country f**k. Fender guitars, you can beat to death, and they’ll still work. One of mine has been run over by a damned luggage tractor – SAS Airlines. It didn’t do a damned thing to the guitar. It destroyed the case, but the guitar played that night after they had run over it with a luggage tractor and ten loads of suitcases. So, to me, they’re kind of disposable.
Yes, I do have favorite guitars. Everybody does. I’ve still got my Fender Jazzmaster, the first guitar I ever owned. It’s back there in the closet. I don’t carry it on the road any more, because it has almost been stolen a few times, and Bob Dylan drove me crazy trying to buy it off me. I don’t carry it out with me any more. But, in general, they’re not like human beings. They’re totally replaceable. If I had a ’52 Nocaster, I wouldn’t feel that way. But if I had a ’52 Nocaster, I also wouldn’t take it out and play s**thole clubs. I’d leave it at the house, you know.
I am locked into – I’m a Tele, Strat guy; I’m a Fender guy. I’ve tried all kinds of other stuff. I’ll give this a shot, I’ll give that a shot, but I always end up back at Fender Telecaster. After all these years, I’ve just kind of given up – why bother? It’s the Bayer aspirin of guitars – if you only get one pain reliever. If you only get one guitar, give me a Telecaster, and we can do it. You can do rock music. All of Led Zeppelin One was done on a Fender Telecaster – it can be done, you know.
I like Strats. I’ve had two or three Stratocaster phases in my life, but I always end up back at Telecasters. Is that a good answer? [To Chris] Are you a guitar player?
Chris: I have a Telecaster prototype also.
Warner: You have what?
Chris: And it’s a pink one.
Warner: Good man. Are you a guitar player?
Chris: You might say that, yeah.
Warner: Are you a good guitar player?
Chris: I don’t know about good, but…I can play a few things.
Warner: Well, that’s good. [To James] Is he a good guitar player?
James: Yeah, yeah, he is. He’s more of a lead guy, I’m more of a rhythm guy. He’s a lead guy.
Warner: Okay. Well, there ain’t nothing wrong with that. That’s a damned good thing. Somebody’s got to play that part, too.
Chris: We can talk all night about that. Okay, well, this one here is Sean Tierney.
Warner: Mm-hmm. Sean’s getting ready to get smart-ass, isn’t he. Go ahead.
Chris: Actually, he just wants to know “what’s in your pedal board these days?”
Warner: Well, I’ve got all kinds of s**t in there that I’ve been yanking out. But with the new thing, all I’ve been using is my volume pedal and my Blues Driver. Nothing else. I don’t need any of the country stuff, so…(chuckles). I try to keep things as simple as possible; I always have. Especially from a road gig standpoint. The less things you got, the less s**t breaks down. That’s why I don’t have a tone knob in any of my Teles. It’s always wide open anyway – why have the knob when it can go bad? I’ve always tried to bring – “KISS,” keep it simple, stupid. The less stuff out there that can break, the less stuff will break.
But, through the years with the Scorchers, because of going from Merle Haggard to Metallica and all points in between, lots of things have come in and out of that pedal board. Right now, it’s real simple. All I got to have is my volume pedal, and my Blues Driver. Which is kind of cool. Is that a good enough answer?

Chris: Yeah. We skipped this one.
Warner: Well, let’s do it. Let’s do it.
Chris: Yeah, it’s from Tom Hyslop Michigan: “Can Warner get his sound with any rig, or does his guitar and amp matter?”
Warner: The guitar matters immensely. Almost with any rig. I mean, when we go to Europe, we have to rent amps. We rent amps every night. I mean, if you’ve got a s**tty amp that won’t function, you don’t stand a chance. But if you’ve got a decent Marshall or something, you at least stand a chance.
I try, when that happens – the big problem in Jason and the Scorchers – I mean, it’s been something that I fight with all the time – is trying to find that one amp that will do all points in between. Because we do go from cry-in-your-beer country music to full-blown rock. And that amasses a wide spectrum. I mean, if we were just doing country music, I’d use a Fender Twin and be done with it. If we were just doing rock music, I could get a big loud-ass Marshall, and be done with it. But, having to try to get in the middle there some too…
Guitar-wise, I don’t do well playing other people’s guitars – because I use real heavy strings, I use real high action, my guitars are damned near unplayable. Most of my guitar player friends hate it when they pick up one of my guitars. I make them hard to play for myself, because it makes me make the notes count. You’ve got to really work to play the damned thing. It also keeps sissies from picking them up who don’t know what they’re doing (interviewers laugh). (pause.) I enjoy it, now and then, when I hand one of my guitars to someone who wants to play one of my guitars. I love watching them sit back and try to fret the first chord, and – “wow, it’s kind of hard.” (laughter.)
But that’s something I purposely did to myself years ago – back when we played so much, I tended to play so sloppy. By raising the action, it made me have to put my head in the game, if that makes any sense. You can’t just show up and go through the moves. You’ve got to know where the hell you’re going. The guitars are set up like slide guitars. Really high, and really beefy, and really difficult.
The guitar matters immensely. I can’t play – when people hand me a guitar with eights or nines on it, it just sounds like the guitar’s out of tune all night long. I can’t play other people’s guitars and sound worth a damn. In fact, I usually don’t. If somebody asks me to play with them, I won’t for that reason – because I know I’m going to sound like I’m out of tune. Even if the guitar’s in tune, I’m going to be fretting things so hard, it’s just going to sound like hell.

This is part one of three installments of the 2002 Warner Hodges Interview -- Click here to read part two >

© 2002-2003 James Benkard — All Rights Reserved

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