Troy Sanders of Mastodon Wants a Bass That Won’t Be Outdone

Of all the idiosyncrasies associated with the mighty Mastodon, the guttural rumble of the band’s bass sound may be chief amongst them. The high points of the band’s low end are provided by founding member Troy Sanders, who also serves as one of the band’s three primary vocalists.

In order to achieve this, Sanders has worked with Fender basses for some 15 years – and now, he’s worked with them to release a signature Precision Bass, his second model for the company. Speaking to Mixdown over Zoom, the veteran bassist noted that such a feat was only possible due to the strength of his relationship with the company.

“The building block of all good things is establishing a very trusting and very appreciative relationship,” he says.

“I’ve been lucky enough to have that with Fender. We did a Jaguar bass in the Silverburst colour scheme about 10 years ago now, and it was awesome – I’ve played that thing at every live show since. A handful of years ago, I was speaking with them about the idea of doing the Silverburst again with a P-Bass. At the time, they’d never done one with that colour scheme, so they were excited about that. Eventually, we came up with a bass that’s both active and passive – which is a real point of difference in not only the basses I play, but the basses Fender offers.”

Sanders goes on to note that he largely switches between active and passive basses depending on which setting he is playing them. The latter, he finds, are better for studio recording – be it with Mastodon, or with one of his supergroups like Killer Be Killed or Gone Is Gone.

“I’ve learned over the years that that tends to translate better for recording,” he explains.

“From the board’s perspective, or even from the producer or engineer’s perspective, having a passive bass has always been important.” who has long taken note of both its omnipotence and omnipresence.

When Sanders is on stage, however – with any of those acts, or indeed playing Phil Lynott’s iconic lines in the current incarnation of Thin Lizzy – it’s got to be active.

“I’ve been fortunate to record in a lot of very nice studios around the United States in my career – and at every single one, they have a 70s P-Bass,” he says.

“It’s always there. I will always bring one or two of my favourite basses to a recording session, right? We’ll dial it in and get comfortable with it, and after a few takes – every time, without fail – the engineer will say, ‘that sounds good, but why don’t you try it on this?’ They’ll hand me the P-Bass, and eight times out of ten that’s what I’ll track on. There’s just something about it, y’know? So, when I approached Fender with the idea I was like, ‘I want a bass guitar that I can record incorporated that onto the album because we had been touring non-stop in a van for our first two years up to that point. He said to us that the worker bee represented our sacrifice and our dedication to make things happen on our own. It keeps me humbled, every time I see it. The symbolism behind it is very powerful to me.”

Sanders counts himself among an elite group of musicians that have had a signature model released by Fender – which heightens even further in its illustrious exclusivity when whittled down to those that have had the opportunity more than once. His excitement at the prospect is palpable, and his hopes for both Mastodon die-hards and P-Bass devotees to experience what his model has to offer are endearingly high.

“I change basses for different tunings throughout a show, and I like all of them to be active so I can maintain that same level,” he says.

“The passive/active idea was really intriguing to all of us working on it, and it’s probably the biggest element that allows it to be set apart from anything standard that they produce.”

Indeed, the Fender Precision bass has long been one of the company’s standard setters, having originally been released all the way back in 1951. That’s not something that is lost on Sanders, on that won’t get outdone by a standard Fender that’s already in the studio’.”

To further distinguish the bass, and add the signature traits required for a signature model, Sanders’ new P-Bass also includes a logo on the 12th fret lifted from Mastodon’s 2017 album Emperor of Sand as well as a neck plate with insignia found on the cover of their legendary debut album Remission.

“It’s called a worker bee,” Sanders says of the latter.

“Our artist, Paul Romano,

“I’m just blown away that I’m working with them again,” he says. “Opportunities like this are rare, and they’re really cool. If you love your own band and you love a song you’ve made together, that’s the most important thing. Once you release something and it goes out into the world, you obviously hope people like it – but if they don’t, that’s OK, because you need to be in love with it first and foremost. I love this bass, and I hope people that pick it up and even purchase it love it too. But if they don’t? That’s OK, because I love it and I’m super excited about it.”

BY PAUL FRENCH AND DAVID JAMES YOUNG

Gear Talks:

Experimental sound artist Uboa takes cues from gaming sound

Uboa is an experimental sound artist from Melbourne, whose sound ranges from abrasive chaos to divine ambience and just about everything in between. The sonically surreal dichotomy that is her album The Origin Of My Depression blends samples, loops and noise into a cohesive form that ebbs and flows, taking cues from gaming and its sound design, both in the worlds that players inhabit and the foley that surrounds them as they explore. We spoke to Uboa about what makes her tick, and ultimately how she found herself taking such a unique route to music, sound and performance.

What came first – music or gaming? Games I think.

I started playing and making games first as a very young kid, and started making music just around early adolescence… I’d often prefer to make them myself more than playing or listening to the work of others.

How do you describe yourself? A musician, composer, songwriter, DJ, artist? Something else?

Generally a lot of people call me a ‘noise musician’ or ‘noise artist’… however my stuff is so much more ‘musical’ than most harsh noise artists and is produced in a different way that has more in common with sound design. There’s bits of producing, performance art, songwriting, composing (with graphic scores, I can’t read standard notation), visual art and poetry, etc. How do video games inform your music?

I do a small amount of references in lyrics and samples (and my stage name) because I have a lot of emotional ties with games. They helped me get through a lot of turmoil even if it’s a little embarrassing to admit it.

Also, the sound design of modern games is very influential on me. I like how modern sound design is used to convey a world to the audience, either in games or movies.

People usually ignore the sound design of games as they are too immersed in the world of the game to notice… turning off the music and simply listening to the foley, sampling, real-time mixing of gunshots, impacts, robots, creatures, blood and gore overlaid with dialogue and background sound I think can be considered its own form of musique concrete.

Is there a moment/song/artist/game/film that made you realise you wanted to make music?

No. I never aspired to be an artist initially and mostly wanted to make the songs I heard in my head for my own enjoyment. I kept doing it and started getting attention for it, so now it’s my thing.

Has your experience making games and mods aided your ability to use samplers and other digital equipment? I.e. have you got experience with coding and programming that helps you achieve certain sounds?

Nope. I’ve never really done much coding or programming. Generally I just stick to Ableton’s elaborate effects rack system as I need the visual feedback when making things.

I am usually quite impatient and want to make the song as quickly, enjoyably and efficiently as possible, especially if I have an idea in my head I need to get out before I forget it. I haven’t found coding helpful for this purpose, but would love to learn.

My laptop, my synthesisers and midi interfaces I use have – if you squint– some similarity to game controllers. They can also be seen like paint brushes or pens. If anything, it’s level and asset design (and as aforementioned, sound design) that inspires me the most.

Is your music composed and performed or is it improvised using samples? Possibly a bit of both? Something else entirely?

Most of the stuff I do live is me playing synths, singing or making noise with pedals etc… the samples I use are generally loops, intros or bursts of noise. Some of my recent live sets have had more samples in them, and I am trying to think of ways I can make them more dynamic to my playing, for example sidechaining or automation.

As with my sets and recordings being improvised or composed: I dislike the either/or binary of ‘improvisation’ and ‘composition’ now that most music is increasingly immanent to its production. That is to say the old division of composition, performance, recording, mixing, production, mastering, etc. is gone.

Overall, improvisation becomes recorded, reiterated and elaborated into a composition… and I often think about how I can translate it to it being solo on stage, especially to play the songs with instrumentation I can’t all do myself live without merely sampling them all as loops.

To a certain degree I consider myself a surrealist insofar as ‘automatic’ improv playing dredges up things from the unconscious, or maybe ‘hyperrealist’ insofar as there is no such thing as an ‘original’ with what I do, nor do I care about one. I feel these are two of the most exciting aspects of experimental laptop music right now that liberate it from the ‘structure’ of the ‘rock band’ that artists like Sophie were so eager to break out of.

The contrast between impact sounds and ambience creates a really interesting dichotomy. How do you find working with sounds that people associate with games and memories affects their perception and reaction to the music? Is this something you’ve learnt to harness and use to your advantage?

I am interested to see what you could do with extreme dynamics emotionally. I always wanted to see the jumpscare play more of a role in extreme music – they do indeed work in horror games and movies, so much so it’s considered passe. I got interested in the idea after hearing the intro Pig Destroyer’s Terrifyer as a 14-year old. It was really effective in making the listener pay attention, usually with a fight-or-flight response.

As with the associations with memories of games in the past, it’s not something intentional at all, but it’s likely unconsciously there. Generally I prefer to make my own samples or at the very least modify them heavily.

This is for two reasons: one is if I just download samples and use them passively I feel like the song somehow isn’t ‘mine’ and that I am ‘lazy’–it feels like my own personality is gone from the song if I simply use other peoples’ work.

The other issue is of course capitalism and the totalitarianism of copyright law. So much art has been destroyed, censored or demonetised because of corporate greed regarding intellectual property. I think the abusive domination of IP needs to be abolished, alongside the entire mode of production which requires it.

Going back to video games, I used to create a lot of mods for Doom (the original 1993 game)… the Doom modding community is full of projects – from levels to entire games and ‘total conversions’— that freely ‘sample’ elements of games that skirt very much in the grey area of copyright law with wonderful creative results.

It goes to show that creativity is more often than not suppressed by the drive for profit which goes against the myth that it is the other way around. We need to liberate samples from the tendency of profit seeking to crush creativity, as I think samples are one of the most emotionally powerful elements in music. For future reference, anybody may sample my music insofar as one isn’t being a jerk. Being sampled is always extremely humbling.

What’s next for Uboa? Any more games and mods on the horizon, more music?

I am working on an upcoming album for The Flenser and many other works. There is a lot of stuff I’m sitting on and itching to get out there. Some old music of mine will be in a feature film soon too, which is very exciting.

I’d love to get back into the Doom engine again one day and make a total conversion or full game where I can make all the assets myself and create something weird. Game design (even with mods) is very time consuming and requires a lot of organisation. I’d also like to try out music videos and get back into graphic design. I care about every aspect of my art –every form of media an artist does affects the aesthetic experience. To vaguely paraphrase Derrida, there is nothing outside of the artwork in this sense.

Uboa’s approach to making music, the immanent nature of it all, from recorded improvisation to refined composition and use of samples from these improvisations in live performances speak to the influence that gaming has had on her music. It’s gritty and noisy and chaotic, but it’s also all performed by someone allowing the equipment and sound to be steered by her, similar to how a player might steer a character through an open world—full of opportunities. There’s something to be said for the limitations that big businesses place on sounds, and Uboa is fighting the good fight by harnessing those sounds, reimagining them, and making them into something entirely new in the pursuit of an open source of sounds and samples. Her live performances are a sight to behold, and understanding her methodology, processes and inspirations bring a whole new level to them.

BY LEWIS NOKE EDWARDS