Anthony Esposito: Power & Resonance

By Freddy Villano

Anthony Esposito has carved out quite a career for himself by being the go-to bassist for some of the most prodigious guitar heroes in hard rock and heavy metal. He landed his first professional gig at age 21 in 1989 with Lynch Mob, led by ex-Dokken guitarist George Lynch. Esposito’s tone and musical temperament on the debut Wicked Sensation [1990, Elektra] provided Lynch with the perfect rock-solid foil to his guitar histrionics. Since then, Esposito has gone on to play with former Kiss guitarist Ace Frehley, Guns N’ Roses axe-man Richard Fortus (in Pisser, a monster New York rock & roll band that never landed a record deal for some reason), and now Jake E. Lee, in the ex-Ozzy Osbourne axe-slinger’s Red Dragon Cartel (RDC). But what makes Esposito so in demand isn’t just his approach to bass: He’s also a crafty songwriter and arranger and a well-respected producer/engineer, owning and operating the recording studio Obscenic Arts in Dillsburg, Pennsylvania. These skills are invaluable to his collaborators, all of whom (particularly Frehley and Lee) have relied upon Esposito to help craft arguably the most relevant records of their solo careers.

RDC’s latest release, Patina, is a perfect example. It was recorded entirely at Obscenic

Arts with Esposito at the engineering helm, beginning with the songwriting and pre-production process, through to tracking drums, bass, guitars, and vocals. The only thing Anthony didn’t do was mix it, a task he handed off to esteemed engineer Max Norman (Ozzy, Lynch Mob, etc.). “It took a year and a half to make Patina,” Esposito proclaims. “Nothing was quick. We took our time.” The result of that gestation period, and Esposito’s sonic craftsmanship, is a mesmerizing tapestry of riffs, hooks, grooves, and tones that define the in-your-face, badass attitude of tunes like “Speedbag,” “Havana,” “Bitter,” and “Crooked Man.”

We spoke with Esposito as he was wrapping up the first leg of RDC’s North American tour in support of Patina. He was candid and even a bit self-deprecating about his musical upbringing, articulate about his gear choices, and revelatory about his recording techniques.

How did you land the gig with Red Dragon Cartel?

My son Tyler is an audio engineer. He moved out to Las Vegas to assist Kevin Churko at his studio [the Hideout], where they cut the first Red Dragon Cartel record. That was when my son first met Jake, and they became friends. Some drama happened with the first bass player, so they got Greg Chaisson [Jake’s ex-Badlands bandmate] to fill in until they could solidify the position. Eventually Jake asked my son, “Hey, would your dad be interested in doing this?” And, of course, I immediately said, “Yes!”

How did you track your bass on Patina?

I love the Demeter Tube DI, so I went from there into an Avalon 737 Mercenary Edition mic pre. That was my direct line. For the amp I used a 1969 Ampeg SVT head with an old flat-back birch cabinet from 1970 or ’71. It’s loaded with CTS speakers. I miked it with a Beyerdynamic M 88 TG, which is a killer kick-drum mic. I threw a Sennheiser MD 421-II on the amp as well. What about basses? I have an early-’90s Fender 1957 Reissue Precision that I used on most of the record. It blows away all of my vintage ones. You know when you get one that’s just magical? I’ve played every gig since then with this bass; it’s incredible. I used it for most of the record. For the fretless parts, I contacted Fender and asked for a fretless Precision, and they sent me one of those Tony Franklin Signature basses. I didn’t use the J pickup; I only used the P pickup. I treated it like a P-Bass, even though there were other options.

How are you deploying the fretless? It isn’t overt.

There’s a lot of fretless on this album. I’ll do fretless in the verses, and then when we get to the chorus or the middle-eight section, I’ll go back to fretted to add a dynamic — add more brightness and attack. Jake and Ozzy did a lot of that when they were tracking with Bob Daisley, [going from] fretless to fretted [and back] to add a dynamic.

Do you play exclusively with a pick?

It’s whatever the part calls for. It’s usually dictated by the guitar part. If Jake is getting aggressive, I might need to play with a pick to cut through, or if he’s going open tuning, the fingers will work. Anything that I can do with a pick, I can do with my fingers. But I can’t slap — I can’t slap worth shit [laughs]. When we play live, there’s this one funky part at the end of the set in the song “Feeder” where I’m doing chordal stuff, and I use a really thin .073mm because I want to get a little Nile Rodgers play in the pick.

Your rock career seems defined by playing with guitar heroes.

Ace, George Lynch, Jake E. Lee, Bumblefoot, Richard Fortus … I played with Jason Hook from Five Finger Death Punch. I’m basically providing a foundation for them to shine. But I always play “song first” because I’m a songwriter as well. With Jake, he pushes me to expand what I’m saying rather than just nailing the bottom. He’s very musical, and he wants me to be musical. We always discussed options on bass approaches when we were making this record. How so? When he would come up with a lick and we would jam in a room, my first question would be, “Jake, what are your hearing underneath? Are you hearing walking? Are you hearing any movement? Are you hearing driving? Do you want me to play behind? Do you want me to play ahead? What’s the tension and the vibe of the part that you want to exhibit here?” And then we would go from that approach and build and expound upon that.

You owned Schoolhouse Studio NYC in Chelsea, Manhattan, for 15 years. Did that experience factor into making Patina?

I recorded everybody at Schoolhouse — Joan Jett, the Misfits, the Ramones, Green Day. The last record we did there was Ace’s Anomaly [2009, Bronx Born], and then I moved the studio to a horse ranch in Pennsylvania. RDC got back from Japan in 2015, and everybody came to the ranch, and we set up in a room and started jamming. Jake was presenting all of his ideas, and the songs started to formulate musically. We would just jam out the parts and try to get what Jake had in his head down onto a boom box. Eventually, drums went down over two weeks, we did bass in a day and a half, and then guitars and vocals.

Tell me about what you refer to as the “wheel” or “holy grail” of bass tone.

When I first joined Lynch Mob as a 21-year-old kid, I called every bass-amp manufacturer under the sun — SWR, Trace Elliot, Eden. All of those boutique amps sound really good on their own, and Ampegs don’t sound very good on their own, but when you play them in rehearsal, in the context of a band, they magically fill the frequencies that you want to hear. A lot of people go into Guitar Center to A/B amps, and they’ll say, “Whoa, this sounds incredible” — but then they play it with a guitar player and keyboards, and the amp doesn’t move the air and fill those frequencies that the Ampeg magically gets. Until you get into a rehearsal room or onstage, you don’t know how it’s going to interact with the other instruments.

How did you learn to play bass?

I grew up in New York City. In sixth, seventh, eighth grade, they start offering electives, which are either music, drama, or art. I couldn’t draw and I didn’t want to act, so I was like, “Okay, I’m going to go into music,” and the choices were brass, woodwinds, or strings. I wanted to play saxophone, but I had braces, and the teacher said, “You can’t play sax with braces — you’ll rip your lips up. You have to play a stringed instrument.” I was a sixth-grade boy at this time. The last thing I wanted to do was play violin and get ridiculed [laughs]. So, I was like, “Give me the biggest instrument you’ve got.” The first time I ever bowed an upright bass, it was an experience. You feel this cannon, this massive instrument right up against your body. You can feel the resonance and the power, and I just fell in love with that frequency and the warmth and moving air. I was attracted to bass from the first time I touched one.

Did you play any upright on Patina?

We did a bonus track for Japan, a version of “Havana.” My friend Mike Morrison — a great guitarist in Dillsburg, where I live — has a full-on Celtic band where he plays mandolin, and there are bagpipes and frame drums and stuff like that. And so, we had them guest on the track. Jake played acoustic guitar, and I played upright. We doubled my upright with some cellos. There’s a violin and viola section playing the melodies. It could be the soundtrack for Braveheart or something [laughs].

What about electric bass guitar? When did you first pick that up?

I didn’t get a bass guitar until probably the eighth grade. It was a Japanese P-Bass copy where the action was like five inches off the fretboard, and my fingers were bleeding. I didn’t play hard rock or heavy metal music until I joined Lynch Mob in 1989, and before that, I was into punk rock, but I played jazz, if that makes any sense? [Laughs.] In New York there were amazing bands, like the Lounge Lizards. New York was the epitome of jazz perfection. You could just walk down the street — Jazz 55 on Christopher Street, or the Blue Note, with amazing music emanating from these bars onto the sidewalk.

Besides school, did you ever take formal lessons?

I studied with Jerry Jemmott. When I was in high school, I used to do his laundry as a way to pay for my lessons. I’d take the Staten Island Ferry and the train all the way uptown to his apartment and clean his house, and he would teach me. He introduced me to Jaco. I took a couple of lessons from Jaco, as well.

I read that you don’t play covers or like to play in cover bands. Is that true?

I never really played in cover bands. I don’t consider playing Kiss songs with Ace Frehley being in a cover band. I can understand musicians wanting to play live, but to me it’s a waste. There are so many talented musicians that have a voice, and instead of writing their own songs and finding their own voices and saying what they have to say that’s pertinent to them, they’ll play cover songs. I feel that the skill and artistry of being a musician, and expressing one’s feelings, is a dying breed. A lot of these tribute bands and cover bands are prevalent now, and they do get paid a lot of money, so I understand picking up some extra bread on the weekend by playing covers. But to me it’s the same as being in a wedding band. When I started out, I had a desire to express what I do, not play somebody else’s song.