A Blindfold Test with Les Paul

Acknowledging the June 9th birthday of the man whose name was synonymous with guitar

It’s not often that one gets to have an audience with Alexander Graham Bell, Thomas Edison, Nikola Tesla or Orville and Wilbur Wright. But that’s what it felt like when I conducted this Downbeat Blindfold Test with Lester William Polsfuss (aka Les Paul) back in 1992. The man whose name is synonymous with the solid body electric guitar he introduced back in 1952 revolutionized the music industry by also pioneering multitrack recording, sound-on-sound (aka overdubbing), tape delay and echo, along with many other sound processing gadgets he developed, like the Paulverizer.

Les’ legacy as a musician, inventor, and creator is still celebrated today. Add two more titles to that list: prankster and comedian. The guy was a regular riot, as anyone who ever saw him in concert can attest. Les loved to tell stories between songs, often with rather ribald punchlines. And there are countless stories of him unexpectedly turn off Chet Atkins’ amp mid-solo or playfully unplug his guitar to make him sweat during their appearances together on record and in concert.

Les first came into my orbit through my father’s Chester & Lester record that he constantly played during my youth.

It was later that I found out about the string of hits that Les churned out during the ‘50s with his wife Mary Ford (formerly the country-western singer Iris Colleen Summers), including “How High the Moon,” “Bye Bye Blues,” “The World Is Waiting for the Sunrise” and “Vaya con Dios” The songs were recorded with multiple tracks where Ford harmonized with herself and Paul played multiple layers of guitars.

At the height of their popularity, Les and Mary had a tv show on NBC from 1954-1955 titled Les Paul & Mary Ford at Home, which was sponsored by Warner–Lambert’s Listerine mouthwash. The five-minute show aired five times a day, five days a week, and was used as a brief interlude or fill-in for programming schedules.

By the time I moved to New York in 1980 and later settled into my tiny studio apartment on E. 29th Street, I was just a short walk away from Fat Tuesday’s, where Les Paul held forth every Monday with bassist Gary Mazzaroppi and rhythm guitarist Lou Pallo from 1983 to 1995. I was a regular at Les’ Monday night residency at Fat Tuesday’s and in fact that is where this Blindfold Test with “The Wizard of Waukesha” took place in 1992.

Here’s the actual tunes that I played for Les that afternoon at Fat Tuesday’s:

In April 1996, Les transferred his Monday night residency from Fat Tuesday’s on Third Avenue between 17th & 18th Strees to The Iridium at the corner of 51st & Broadway and continued to hold forth there every Monday night for the next 13 years until shortly before his passing on Aug. 12, 2009. I saw him there frequently, laughing at his every joke while wincing at some. And loving every musical minute of it. Les’ birthday celebration at The Iridium was always a special occasion, featuring a bevy of special guest guitarists, from Pat Martino, Bucky Pizzarelli, Larry Coryell and Russell Malone to Al DiMeola, Jeff Beck, Steve Miller, Larry Carlton, Zakk Wylde and Brian Setzer…and I saw them all there.

I had a personal thrill of a lifetime when I recruited Les to record a track with Pat Martino on the 1997 album that I produced for Blue Note (with Matt Resnicoff) called All Sides Now. The session took place on June 23, 1996 at Sorcerer Sound near Times Square. Les, of course, was a boyhood hero of Pat’s. As he recalled in the book Here and Now: The Autobiography of Pat Martino (which I co-authored): “Another of my earliest guitar influences was Les Paul. Dad, always aware of exposing me to these great guitarists, brought me to the Steel Pier in Atlantic City, where Les Paul and Mary Ford were performing. After their performance, we went backstage and Dad introduced me to Les. After we talked, Les handed me his guitar and asked me to play something. He seemed to be impressed with my facility, particularly my ability with the plectrum.”

In his liner notes to Pat’s 1970 Prestige album, Desperado, Les wrote:

“Some years ago I was playing an engagement in Atlantic City and a young lad, accompanied by his parents, came backstage to meet me and request my autograph. When the lad said he was learning guitar, I handed him mine and asked that he play something, Well, what came out of that guitar was unbelievable. His dexterity and his picking style were absolutely unique. He held his pick as one would hold a demitasse…pinky extended, very polite. The politness disappeared when pick met string, as what happned then was not timid but very definite I was very impressed and the momory of this lad stuck with me. Although I lost track of him, I figured that sooner or later I was bound to hear him again.

“Several years later, I began hearing reports of a young guitarist playing in the New York area who was really scaring other musicians with his ability and musicianship I tracked him down to a club in Harlem, and aside from the fact that the reports of his being a great guitarist were not exaggerated, I found that this was the same lad who had visited me in Atlantic City. Now grown up, and with the extra years of practice and experience, he had grown into a musical giant.”

And so, their meeting at Sound on Sound that June day in 1996 was a reunion, of sorts. Since I had been regularly attending Les’ Monday night gigs at The Iridium, I was well aware that he would close each night with a romp through “Caravan” with bassist Paul Nowinski and guitarist Lou Pallo in tow. The band was tight and Les seemed very comfortable with this Juan Tizol-Duke Ellington tune. It seemed like the perfect vehicle to have Pat and Les collaborate on for the All Sides Now session. So I got ahold of the music, xeroxed it and dutifully faxed it to Pat’s home in South Philadelphia, just so he could brush up on the tune before going into the studio. And Les, who was already well acquainted with the piece, having ended every set with that tune at The Iridium every Monday night, was certainly prepared.

So we get into Sound on Sound with Pat, Les, Lou Pallo and Paul Nowinsky. We do a quick tune up and test levels. Mat and I go into the control room, leaving the musicians in the live room to play together in close proximity. And just before we hit the record button, I can hear Les say, “Hey Pat, you know this one?” And he starts playing “I’m Confessin’ (That I Love You).” This last-second switcheroo by Les was the equivalent of him pulling Chet Atkins’ guitar chord out of the amp right before his solo. Pat hesitated for a moment, then jumped in with the familiar melody on that quintessential Tin Pan Alley tune. And the rest is history. They got it in one take!