"When the old guard—Billy Gibbons, Zakk Wylde, Buddy Guy—look you in the eye and say, 'We see you. Keep going,' you go, 'I'm never stopping'": Jared James Nichols talks touring with legends, "dad tone" and his one-off Gibson Futura | Interview

Jared James Nichols talks touring with legends, "dad tone" and his one-off Gibson Futura | Interview

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Wisconsin-born Jared James Nichols has been one of the most exciting names in the blues-rock scene for over a decade now. With a string of incredible albums under his belt and a guitar tone as big as the man himself—he's a big lad—there's only one thing better than hearing his records, and that's catching him performing live.

As he sets out on another major UK tour at the end of the year, with some promised surprises in store, Guitar Interactive's Jonathan Graham sits down with JJN to talk about that mysterious new Gibson he's been playing, fatherhood, and a whole lot of BLUESPOWER!

First things first—congratulations. You joked you've got "dad tone" now. Did you actually feel your playing change?

Thanks, brother. Yeah—immediately. The second he came out, I was like, "Man, my tone just got way more old school." I'm literally in the guest bedroom while the baby naps thinking, "I'm a dad, dude. I got dad tone." It's funny, but it's real.

New baby at home, then straight back on the road with Joe Perry—how are you balancing the two? Has your schedule taken a hit?

In a lot of ways, yeah—but in the best way. It put me in a headspace of, "Okay, everything's for keeps now." I remember the first time I got him to sleep by myself—I grabbed a guitar and started playing really quiet, and he shuffled and I'm like, "Stay asleep, stay asleep!" (laughs) My schedule's changed, but here's the twist: I used to come home from tour complaining I barely slept. Then last week on the road with Joe, I got six, seven hours a night and felt amazing. That's dad math for you.

What surprised you most about sharing a stage and a bus with Joe Perry?

The joy. He's well into his seventies and was so excited to pick up a guitar and play every night. There were moments with slide where he was just going for it and I'm thinking, "Damn, I hope I have that same spark when I'm that age." That's the fountain of youth—playing. Same thing when I was hanging with Buddy Guy a few weeks ago—he's almost ninety, pouring cognac and telling me how he broke into Earl Hooker's place in '57 because Earl stole his wah. Sounds like a tall tale, but with those guys it's always true. And the advice from all of them is the same: don't stop.

Joe's like, "I can't believe I'm still out here doing this." You get beat up, you feel like the deck's stacked—but you keep pushing. When the old guard—Billy Gibbons, Zakk Wylde, Buddy—look you in the eye and say, "We see you. Keep going," you go, "I'm never stopping."

You're bringing the show back to the U.K. soon. Where are you headed, and what can people expect?

We're running and gunning—Glasgow, Manchester, Nottingham, the usual suspects, and a few I've never hit before. We wrap in London with a very cool thing tied to the Gibson Garage—announcement soon. It's 10 shows across 11 days, and I'm coming with a bag of new tricks: new songs, new energy. I can't wait to unveil it.

Speaking of new songs, you added something new into a set the other night. Could we hear a new album very soon?

Oh yeah! New music will be out by the time I'm in the U.K.—not the whole record, but you'll have things to spin. The record's done. I never stopped writing after the last one, and lately we've been sprinkling new tunes into the set. The reaction's been killer. Last album, we cut live in one room, all the energy. Moving forward, it's that same spirit but with even more focus on songs—hooks and riffs that translate for me and the crowd.

Let's get to the spaceship on your lap—the Futura. For readers who might now be familiar with the model, what's the story?

(laughs) Check this out. I'm a Les Paul guy to the bone. But my neighbors Lzzy Hale and Joe Hottinger have a ton of Explorers, so I borrowed one—then a korina one—and realized the shape just sits right on my 6'5" frame. César at Gibson handed me his own Murphy Lab korina Explorer prototype from 2019. That lit me up. I started looking at photos of the 1957 Futura prototype—like a cracked-out Explorer, funky proportions, split headstock that people mistake for a Dean. If you look up the patent drawings, it's right there.

Then at the Custom Shop I saw a photo with an Explorer up front and a Futura lurking behind it. They told me it was a prototype they were figuring out. Weeks later, I played a Gibson event and said, "I'll do it, but I want to buy that guitar." Lo and behold, they put it together for me. It's the only completed one out there.

Give us the spec sheet—and what you changed.

One-piece korina body, Brazilian board, brand-new Series II PAFs. It's insanely light—about seven pounds fully dressed. I went the extra mile on parts: original '50s plastics where I could, original Explorer knobs and switch tips, a '50s truss-rod cover, period-correct hardware. I could've left it stock—it was already gorgeous—but I wanted it to feel like a late-'50s piece that slipped through time. Then I took it on the road and beat on it. Joe Bonamassa saw it and goes, "Damn. Congratulations—you've got the only one."

Did it change how you play?

Totally. A korina body with humbuckers punches. First big chord I hit, it was like dropping a bigger engine in the car—whoa, I better learn to control this. It made me a little more unhinged in a good way—wilder animal. Some folks think it's the ugliest guitar they've ever seen. Sit with it, play it, feel it. It's badass.

What are you working on right now with your guitar playing?

I'm obsessing over right-hand articulation—where I hit the string, how I shape the attack. On the Joe Perry run I had one pedal on the floor: a Tube Screamer. That's it. Joe's techs kept asking, "Where's your board?" I'm like, "I'm not using one. I'm using my ears and my hands." I love some Klon sounds, but the way I use the gain adds white noise. The Screamer doesn't. If I can make it sing clean, when I click the Screamer it's heaven. It's like a voice—from a whisper to a scream.

You mentioned hearing an isolated "Comfortably Numb" solo recently. Did that reinforce the less-is-more approach?

Zakk Wylde sent it to me. We've all heard that solo a million times, but soloed up you hear the touch. That connection is everything. I can play an Axe-Fx through a powered cab and it can sound cool, but personally? I want that tactile danger of guitar-into-amp. That's the thrill.

In your view, what are the fundamentals of being a great blues-rock guitarist?

First, a voice. Bending, vibrato, touch, feel—that's the blues DNA. As a kid I'd hear Robin Trower or Stevie or Albert King play three notes and it sounded like them. I'd play the same three and it didn't land. You can't fake the time it takes. Second, tone—not some one-true tone, but the palette you own. Commit to it. Third, phrasing. We recycle a lot as guitar players, but great phrasing makes the simplest idea speak thirty different ways. And last, belief—whether it's a slow burn or a heavy riff, you have to own it. That part can't be taught either. You dig until it's yours.

Do you remember the moment it first "clicked" for you onstage?

Totally. My mom used to take me to blues jams. I didn't know anything—my reference for "the blues" was The Moody Blues. (laughs) I went home, did my homework, discovered SRV, Buddy, Otis Rush, B.B. King. About a year later they called me for a slow blues and suddenly I could say what I wanted. I could do the snappy Stevie licks and feel in control. I was like 16. That feeling is addictive. You keep raising your own bar.

Players hit ruts. What's your practical playbook for getting unstuck?

Five quick hitters. One: Audit your left hand. Can you bend to pitch and hold it? Can you do slow, medium, fast, and crazy vibrato on command? Two: Make the right hand sing. Play the same lick three times and change only pick attack. If it doesn't sound different, keep digging. Three: Play over changes. In a slow blues in C, can you find the root, major third, fifth, flat seventh for the I (C), IV (F), and V (G)? Get your ear and fretboard talking. Four: Flip your tone. If you're swimming in reverb and delay, go dry and clean. If you're always clean, add some hair. Get uncomfortable. Five: Jam with humans. Ten minutes with a drummer beats hours alone. If you truly can't, pick backing tracks that challenge you, not the easy ones. And remember: sometimes the fix is stripping it all back.

You're working very closely with Gibson. Fans loved the story of your vintage Les Paul "Dorothy." Is there any chance of a signature or limited run?

A hundred percent chance. I'm not here to burst bubbles, but there's a lot of cool stuff happening at Gibson weekly. They're not afraid to make bold guitars right now, and there are things in the pipeline—including Dorothy—that people are going to freak over. There are some slammers on that list.

Dream collabs—past and present. Who are you jumping onstage with?

If we're time-traveling, take me to the late' 60s/early '70s U.K.—Cream, Hendrix, Leslie West. On the heavier side, Pantera, classic Ozzy. Modern day, I'd love to go toe-to-toe with Marcus King, hang with Blackberry Smoke, Gov't Mule, and my Dutch friends DeWolff. I just spent a week with Chris Robinson—I'd love to jam with The Black Crowes. And me and Lzzy (Hale) have traded lyrics and jammed—we almost jumped on a couple of shows together, but schedules clashed. It'll happen.

Your sets nod to heroes but you also champion underrated players. Give us a solo—or two—we should study.

Leslie West is criminally under-talked about. Mountain's golden era—late '69 to' 72—Climbing!, Nantucket Sleighride, Flowers of Evil—that's some of the sickest blues-rock tone and playing ever recorded. Find the New Year's Eve 1970–71 Fillmore West live recording. It's the best document of West and Mountain I've heard. And Robin Trower—people reduce it to "Strat plus Uni-Vibe equals Hendrix," but there's so much more. The articulation and feel are nuts. The bigger point: slow down and really listen. We rush too much.

Last one—when you pick up a new guitar these days, what's the number one priority you need it to fulfill?

I want a guitar to feel like a voice. If I can control it from a whisper to a scream with my hands, I'm good. The rest is details—I'm just going to keep doing what the legends told me: don't stop.

For more information on Jared's new music and tour dates, visit jaredjamesnichols.com.

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