At one point, in terms of recorded music, Tommy Tedesco had the title of "the most-recorded guitarist in the history of the music business."

For those that are not familiar with his name, if you remember the classic guitar parts on TV shows like Bonanza, The Twilight Zone or Green Acres or movies like The French Connection, The Godfather, Jaws or The Deer Hunter or The Ant and the Aardvark cartoon, (and this is the super short list), then you've heard Tommy Tedesco.

He was also a part of the famous group of studio musicians called...



...The Wrecking Crew. (Bassist/Guitarist Carol Kaye to his left)

I remember reading his Studio Log column in the late 70s issues of Guitar Player magazine.
Here he would describe a particular session, what the producer wanted him to play and what he actually ended up playing.


A few excerpts from a recent MIX magazine article (the interview was done in 1985)...


Being such a diverse guitarist, does it cause a problem being a musical chameleon and retaining your own stylistic and artistic identity?
No, because my artistic identity is all these things. When I pick up a guitar, I am all these things. I might be playing live, it might be a jazz date, but you’re gonna hear some Spanish influences in there, maybe some fake oriental experiences, all these things I’ve picked up, that’s part of me.

What was the most memorable, or rewarding? (recording session)
Recently I did a picture called The River (1984) with John Williams, and I had a lot of solo work, and it was rewarding because John loved it and the director (Mark Rydell), he came up, he loved my work and loved my work for years, and his son, who was also a guitar player, was on the date, and knew all about me. The whole date was filled with rewards both financially and ego-wise. Many times you do things you think were pretty good, and it doesn’t go over as well. I got applause from all the musicians after I did my solo, and there’s nothing like when your own peers acknowledge your work.



Which composer gives you the most trouble in terms of difficult parts to play—every time they call you, you know you’ve got a challenge ahead of you?
I’d have to say John Williams…he’s going to ask more of me. I just know when I walk into a John Williams date I’m not just gonna relax and have a cup of coffee. I know I have to check the music because it’s really going to be something, because John doesn’t play down any chair. And that works not just for me, but for everyone in the band. When you work for him, you’re gonna be working. Same for Jerry Goldsmith. When they call you, there’s a reason for you being there. And they’re gonna bring you right up to their high standards. A guy like Mancini, whenever I work for Henry Mancini, it’s on a certain situation. …he might want a mandolin or want a guitar from Puerto Rico…when you go there, you know he’s not going to be playing any “Yankee Doodle” stuff.



What part does creativity play in conjunction with the written music?
It plays a big part. I don’t think of it as written music—it’s written notes --you make music out of notes that are written. That’s the creativity. They put these notes on a piece of paper, and I’ve heard guys play that, exactly like that, as notes. When I see a bunch of notes, I try and make music happen. That’s my creativity. No matter what I do, I try and make music happen.



Have film directors have gone out of their way to acknowledge you’ve brought something to the session that was unexpected?
I’ve had that happen a few times with directors, but even actors who were heavily involved. People like Burt Reynolds have acknowledged me and my playing and my name. Clint Eastwood acknowledged my playing and my name. When I did this movie Table for Five (1983), Jon Voigt went out of his way to come out of the booth and talk to me. Recently I felt awful good when I did a picture called Rhinestone (1984); Dolly Parton went out of her way to come through the band and introduce herself to me. She said she’s been hearing about me for years, and felt good to finally meet me. Same thing happened when I did the Linda Ronstadt album (“What’s New”). She came up and introduced herself and said she’d heard my name all these years, and it was a pleasure working with me. So these things happen. They feel good!



What was it like working with Elvis? What kind of a man was he?
I wish I had had more confidence in what I was doing, in relationship to the leaders. I always knew I was a guitar player and I just played. I never paid attention to the leader or the artists. And here was Elvis, I’ll never forget doing things—he loved my work, he commented a few times. But it was just a job to me. I just knew his name was Elvis, and I said, “hey, I’m gonna work with Elvis tonight.”

We did the special (“Elvis’ 68 Comeback Special”), and recently they put it back on TV, and I heard all this nylon string classical type music coming, and I knew that was me, that I’d done on a tune called “Memories” with Elvis. And it cracked me up, and I said, “I’ve heard that tune; that’s me.” I’d forgotten all about it.



Does practice ever become unnecessary, or does one get better with age if practice is continued?
Practice is a word I don’t use. I use “play.” If you play, you get better. I’m playing a lot, so I see myself getting better. There’s things I do now that I couldn’t have done three years ago. There are other things I never knew until now. At my age, I’m still progressing, and I see no let down at age 55.



Who do you listen to at home?
I’m a piano freak. I listen to people like Bill Evans and Chick Corea. I love piano harmony. I wish our guitars had that kind of harmony.



Does Italian food help your playing?
Yes, definitely. You can slide more. The more grease you have on your hands, the more it’ll help.



http://mixonline.com/onli...index.html

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

That last question leads to a personal story.
Some years ago I was playing with a Jazz combo at a dinner club called Forte's.
During a break, the sax player Sammy said there was someone he wanted to introduce me to.
As we walk over to the table I immediately recognized who the patron was...



...by his signature cap.

Sammy said, "Tommy I want to introduce you to our guitar player."
He looks up from his plate of pasta and says, "Keep it up. You're playin' all the right stuff kid."


His autobiography is called...



...Confessions of a Guitar Player



tA

Tribal Disorder

http://www.soundclick.com...dID=182431

...

Rest in Peace, Tommy...

Great Article! Thanks, tA!







...

Impressive as usual, tA.

Thanks for sharing and enlightening, much appreciated.