Davey Faragher
leaning back, which creates this sweet spot in the middle. We both know each other’s style so well that we can sort of do our own thing while creating a nice pocket. You got to work with the late Allen Toussaint on Elvis’ album The River in Reverse. That record came out of doing some benefit shows for victims of Katrina. It was amazing to work with Allen. We learned a number of his songs and a whole lot about various New Orleans grooves. He was such a stately fellow, dressed to the nines, and with a great demeanor. He had this interesting way as co-producer. You’d come into the booth for the playback after a take, and he’d say, in his deep, resonant voice, “What do you think about what you’re playing in the bridge?” And you’d want to run and hide! But he was very complimentary to me throughout the project, which meant the world to me. You recorded Fine, Fine Line with Andy Fraser and then spent a year in his band. I learned a lot from him. He was the lead singer, so I played bass, but the way he wrote was the same way he played bass: big arena riffs, with dramatic use of space. The best lesson I ever got in taking a breath and leaving holes in the music was from Andy. He was the king of hitting the note and then letting off in a way that would suck the air out of the room. The way he let off the note was so accented that it had a major effect, and then the space afterward would be as important as the note. I definitely picked up some of that. Your use of fuzz bass on records with Buddy Guy and Sheryl Crow caught the ear of bassists. I’m really not an effects guy; I have a pedalboard on tour with Elvis, but I rarely use it. The main fuzz-bass project I did was Buddy’s record Sweet Tea. My buddy Dennis Herring was producing, and he sent me a Captain Beefheart track that had fuzz bass on it. Much of the record is a trio with me, Buddy, and Pete [Thomas], so Dennis wanted to go for a Cream–Led Zeppelin kind of sound. I played my ’63 Gibson Les Paul Jr., and I have this ’70s Electro-Harmonix Hot Tubes overdrive pedal, so that’s what I used.
48
BASS MAGAZINE ; ISSUE 5 ; bassmagazine.com
In Praise Of Davey Faragher By Elvis Costello
D
avey was the perfect bass player for The Imposters, as the group came into existence during the making of When I Was Cruel — a record initially motivated by toy drum machines, until I accepted that the songs would be better realized by a new combination of humans. Davey could do everything we needed. He could lay it down hard, he could lay out when it was necessary, and he could invent with the best of them. I think that it would have been impossible for Davey (or anyone else) to enter into an alliance with three musicians who had played together for the best part of 40 years, had the three of us remained static in our conception of melody, harmony, or rhythm. We sense music differently than we did in our 20s and play songs that call for far more variation of dynamic range and nuance. In terms of the groove, I could sense the things that Davey took from lessons with the likes of Chuck Rainey. They have become more and more evident as The Imposters developed their own recording and performance vibe. Young groups are often insecure, wildly competitive, and confrontational; they flourish by taking unconventional roles. For example, the “rhythm section” of the Attractions was frequently Pete Thomas’ drums and my rhythm
