Bad guitarists spend a significant amount of time pondering how they can improve their sound and become good guitarists. As someone who has been a bad guitarist and a collector of guitar toys for my entire adult life, I can confirm this. And now, I am proud to say that I have acquired a Leslie speaker.
For those who are unfamiliar, Leslies are large and heavy (mine weighs 150 lbs.) musical devices originally introduced as organ accessories in the 1940s. The intention, more than 80 years ago, was to enable smaller electronic keyboards to produce sounds reminiscent of the powerful pipe organs found in theaters and churches. A Leslie cabinet typically consists of a single 15-inch speaker (referred to as a “woofer”) and rotating horns, which, combined with a system of motors, pulleys, and baffles, create a distinctive “whoosh” sound when any musical signal is sent through it. The more scientifically inclined might explain that the unique auditory effects of the Leslie are a result of the Doppler Effect, the same phenomenon responsible for the change in pitch of a passing siren. However, as a self-proclaimed music lover, all I can tell you is that a Leslie produces incredibly cool sounds.
Virtually every iconic pop and rock song featuring prominent keyboards, from Booker T and the MGs’ “Green Onions” to the Allman Brothers’ “Dreams” and Pink Floyd’s “Us and Them,” showcases the enchanting tones of a Hammond organ played through a Leslie speaker.
While I have never owned a Hammond organ or considered acquiring one, I have always been enthralled by everything related to guitars. At this point, I possess more tube amplifiers than books and more guitars than amplifiers. And don’t even get me started on pedals! (Well, not for a few paragraphs, at least.) Thanks to the influence of the Beatles, I have long desired to own a Leslie speaker. The Beatles began experimenting with incorporating Leslies into their guitar sound as early as 1965, with the song “It’s Only Love.” Consequently, George Harrison frequently relied on the distinct Leslie whoosh, most notably on psychedelic masterpieces like “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” and his collaboration with guitar legend Eric Clapton on Cream’s “Badge” from 1969.
However, several major obstacles have prevented me from obtaining a Leslie speaker until now. Firstly, they used to be astonishingly expensive. There was a time when a well-preserved Leslie could fetch over $1,000. Given my frugal nature, I have never spent four figures on anything except for one item—a 1964 Gretsch Country Gentleman, which I believe was an absolute steal at $1,600. Additionally, Leslies are notoriously large and unwieldy. As a dedicated hoarder, size matters to me, and accommodating such a massive device can be challenging.
Furthermore, advancements in technology have gradually rendered the Leslie speaker somewhat obsolete. There now exist stomp boxes or effects pedals capable of digitally replicating the entire Doppler Effect whoosh with astonishing accuracy. Pedals have become both a best friend and a worst enemy for guitar enthusiasts like myself. On the one hand, they occupy very little space and offer limitless possibilities. On the other hand, they are an endless temptation, and as a result, I possess countless boxes, drawers, and road cases filled with pedals. However, despite amassing a collection of pedals in a futile attempt to imitate legendary guitarists like Stevie Ray Vaughan, I have come to realize that no amount of overdrive pedals can truly replicate their distinctive sound. Nevertheless, as a hopeless guitar aficionado, I have owned at least two dozen Ibanez Tube Screamers and their clones solely because they were part of SRV’s pedalboard. (Here’s a thought that has likely never crossed the minds of esteemed musicians or mediocre guitarists like myself: “I own too many overdrive pedals!”)
Ironically, for some inexplicable reason, I have never managed to acquire a Leslie pedal to help unleash my inner Quiet Beatle. Recently, it seems that the market for bulky musical instruments, including combo amplifiers and 4×12 speaker cabinets, has been declining. The demand for organs and pianos has virtually disappeared. If you happen to own any piano other than a Steinway that you wish to part with, you will likely have to pay a significant sum to have it removed from your home. Just take a glance at the “piano” section on Craigslist in your area to see the harsh reality for yourself.
Recently, I made a serendipitous discovery that suggests Leslies may also be heading towards obsolescence. Last week, I stumbled upon an advertisement on a local social media platform in Washington, D.C., showcasing someone offering free organs and pianos. One of the images accompanying the post depicted a classic Hammond organ with an attached Leslie, although no specific models were mentioned. Intrigued, I responded to the ad, and the woman informed me that a renovation of her deceased musician father’s house was scheduled to commence within days. Despite her best efforts, she had been unable to find anyone interested in taking any of her father’s old instruments.
Suspecting that my intuition was correct, I brought a hand truck with me. The woman sadly disclosed that a crew would arrive the following day to dispose of her father’s grand piano at the local landfill. Despite the piano’s evident physical deterioration, her attachment to it was palpable. “That piano played at Carnegie Hall,” she told me with a hint of sorrow.
Everything else in her basement was destined for the trash. “Take whatever you want,” she said.
As my heart had desired, there it was—a Hammond C3, regarded as one of the most coveted organs ever made, complete with the attached Leslie. Taking both items would have been the right decision in terms of musical value, but my marriage would likely have been jeopardized. I left the organ for the trash crew, but managed to hand-truck the Leslie to my minivan and stow it in my garage.
Now, my only task is to figure out how to utilize this fascinating device. Over the past week, I have devoted every spare minute to studying how to connect a Leslie to a guitar instead of an organ. What I have discovered so far is that the process is neither straightforward nor easily accomplished. It is highly likely that I will need to invest a considerable amount of money to transform my free, yet incredibly heavy, unwieldy, and somewhat outdated guitar toy into a functioning whoosh machine.
Nonetheless, I remain determined. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. For now, I will focus on what truly matters—I have a Leslie speaker, just like George Harrison.
