Over the last few months I’ve been playing in a new band yet to be officially named but currently being referred to as The Port Orford Shreds. The band consists of Ben Horton on drums, my brother Ryan Feliciano on guitar and myself on bass. We’ve been talking about doing this project for several years, a project built around Ryan’s shred guitar playing – covering instrumentals from some of our favorite virtuosic shred guitarists. For me this project represents a return to a style of music and approach that I had essentially moved away from for about 15 years.
In my early teens, at the time I started playing guitar, I was listening to a lot of punk music and began to be fascinated by more challenging and technical guitar playing. I was taking the obligatory run through classic rock guitar music like Led Zeppelin and AC/DC, eventually moving towards more heavy bands such as Black Sabbath and Metallica, quickly seeking more obscure and over-the-top technical guitar wizardry.
I remember I was about 13 or 14 when my cousin visited and left me with a burnt CD with the word “SHRED” sharpied on the label. The first song completely blew my mind. I had never heard such over-the-top guitar playing (and singing), and I remember listening to this ridiculous falsetto, trying to transcribe any lyrics I could make out to figure out the name of this song and band. The song was Superheroes by the speed metal band Racer X, featuring Paul Gilbert, who ushered me down this rabbit hole of ridiculous, highly technical guitar playing that became popular in the 80s.
Other songs I can remember discovering on this CD were the Racer X instrumentals Technical Difficulties and Scarified, Arpeggios from Hell by neo-classical shredder Yngwie Malmsteen, and Concerto by Cacophony, a project featuring super shredders Jason Becker and Marty Friedman. Naturally, with the discovery of these players I only wanted one thing, and that was to shred. There would be many other guitarists, bands, albums and songs I would grow obsessed with on my quest to shred.
The golden age of shred seemed to have passed in the 80s and early 90s, but in 2007 it was a great year to be a fan, with Paul Gilbert releasing his first instrumental rock album – Get Out of My Yard. This album along with the follow up Silence Followed By A Deafening Roar are two of my favorite albums in this style and direct references and inspiration for the project.
Sidequest:
Not knowing better at the time, I used to pick with a strange technique which put a lot of strain on the top joint of my right index finger. As I began building up speed and playing more and more technical riffs and solos for long hours, I began to experience pain in my picking hand, namely in that index finger. This led to me drastically changing my picking technique, which led to a major step back in my speed and picking abilities. At this point in my playing I was getting into college and moving away from this sort of technical music, moving more towards playing in pop bands and original projects which didn’t require any shredding. Eventually I moved away from the electric guitar and picking entirely, taking a break from music to focus on studying and eventually embarking on my first world travels. After about a year without playing much, I picked up a cheap nylon guitar and essentially started over, with a major focus on fingerstyle playing, moving towards more simple, melodic pieces and songwriting.
I had given up on any dreams of shredding, and up until the last few months pulling this project together, I feel my playing has somewhat stagnated for a number of years. I don’t practice as much as I used to and don’t play nearly as many hours. I haven’t really worked on any pieces that pushed my technical skills for many years, instead just focusing on songwriting, recording and performing original music.
The songs we’ve been selecting for the shred project have been a return to the playing and practice I would spend countless hours with as a teenager. Many of these songs I had to start learning at around 50 to 70% speed, gradually working out the parts and lines and repeating and building up speed incrementally so I could pull them off with the band. I still have plenty of work to go in building up my chops, but it feels good to be working on material that’s challenging the limits of my playing and giving me the drive to work on guitar technique that I’ve neglected for years.
In writing this entry I was reminded that the songs we are covering for this project are not only technical exercises, but each one connects to experiences that were significant in my early musical life. Growing up near Los Angeles meant I had regular opportunities to go watch shred guitarists like Paul Gilbert, Joe Satriani, Steve Vai, Guthrie Govan, John Petrucci, Buckethead and more. Some of my earliest adventures — before I ever traveled the world — were chasing these players down to see them play live.
Racer X Live
Paul Gilbert was my favorite guitarist and Racer X my favorite band across those years. My tastes have shifted quite a bit over the years, and it’s been many years since I’ve actively listened to Racer X, but at that point in my life their music meant a lot to me. By the time I discovered them they were inactive for years, and any chance of a reunion, tour or future releases seemed extremely unlikely.
In early 2009 it was announced that Racer X would be getting back together for a one-off performance, hosted by Ibanez guitars to celebrate Paul Gilbert’s 20th anniversary with the company. The thing is, the event wasn’t open to the public — it was for Ibanez artists and staff, and otherwise only open to badge-carrying attendees of the NAMM trade show. NAMM (the National Association of Music Merchants) is an annual industry insider event. As Google puts it: “The NAMM Show is a trade-only event and is not open to the general public. It is accessible to music industry professionals, business owners, employees, educators, students, and approved media or content creators.”
I was 16 years old. I couldn’t drive, let alone have any industry connections for a NAMM badge. Word had it that the event wasn’t actually being held inside the exhibition center, but at a hotel ballroom nearby. Still from everything I could find online, there was no way I was getting into this show.
The morning of, I had a rehearsal with the high school drumline, and the entire time I had this horrible feeling that I was going to miss a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see this legendary band. I just felt that I had to try. As soon as rehearsal let out, I called up the one friend I had with a license, explained the situation, and he was down for the mission.
We took the long drive out to Anaheim — two awkward little teenagers sneaking around the Sheraton Park hotel, trying not to stand out. We found the ballroom the event was to be held at and there were signs posted that said it would be open to those with NAMM badges. Still no one was certain how strictly this rule would be enforced, with little to lose – we waited. After waiting in line for a few anxious hours unsure what would happen, about half an hour before the show, the staff opened the doors and we were in. I couldn’t believe it.
The catch was that the room was split in two with the Ibanez insiders up front, with tons of space between them and a barricade that separated the rest of us. This was disappointing but I was happy to be inside. The show began with a live band set by guitarist Andy Timmons followed by a performance of Paul’s solo band. This was great even from halfway across the ballroom, but by the time Racer X took stage, I couldn’t take it anymore. I jumped the barrier. As I quickly shuffled up to the front of the room I noticed that several other fans followed me, and we proceeded to watch the performance from the front row, right up against the stage. All this made for one of the top experiences of my teenage years and one of my all-time favorite shows.
Here’s a clip from that show:
The Aristocrats
In the years after the Racer X show, going to NAMM in Anaheim became a tradition — I got my first badge at 17 and returned several more times over the following years. The show is chaos and cacophony, both heaven and hell for music and gear nerds: hundreds of companies bringing out their teams and endorsed artists to demo the latest gear, as well as offer signings, clinics, and performances from these top musicians visiting from around the world. With the gathering of all that talent in one place, there are many special performances happening all around the event — some public, some, like the Racer X show, (technically) not.
That brings me to the Aristocrats, whose song “Aristoclub” is in our shred set. The Aristocrats are the epitome of a supergroup — three of the most technically proficient players in the world today. The range of projects, styles and material this trio has performed over the years, individually and together, is mind-boggling.
I first became aware of drummer Marco Minnemann through my Paul Gilbert obsession. He famously recorded and toured with Paul in the 2000s — including the Space Ship One album and, most notably for me, the Space Ship Live DVD, where the musicians wore orange space suits for their live-in-studio performances. Bassist Bryan Beller I first knew as a touring member of the cartoon metal band Dethklok. I was a huge fan of the show Metalocalypse, particularly the first season, and I listened to their first album countless times in my teen years. Although the band and music is an absurd and satirical take on metal and celebrity incompetence, the creator Brendon Small is a very competent, Berklee-educated musician and a highly skilled guitarist. Besides Metalocalypse, I also love his first show Home Movies, which has tons of great non-metal music. Bryan Beller is a regular collaborator and member of that touring band, and beyond it he’s recorded with countless artists, has a prolific solo output, and has a strong connection to the world of Frank Zappa alumni such as Mike Keneally.
Now on to Guthrie Govan, who in my perception is the most consistently mind-blowing guitarist I’ve ever heard. An absolute wizard of the electric guitar, his musicality and virtuosity go beyond anything I could ever dream of. His one and only solo album, Erotic Cakes — named after one of my favorite Simpsons episodes — is an all-time masterpiece of the genre. I could never grow tired of listening to Guthrie’s melodic and inventive playing on this album, not to mention the equally inspiring, tasteful and virtuosic playing of Seth Govan on bass (Guthrie’s brother) and Pete Riley on drums. My understanding is that these three performed as a legendary underground jazz band for years called the Fellowship — a fitting name, considering I’ve seen people lately referring to Guthrie, with his greying long hair and beard, as the Gandalf of guitar. Guthrie had written two books, Creative Guitar 1 and 2, both of which were very inspiring and influential for me as a teenage guitarist. Unfortunately I’ve lost both books over the years, so I’m reminded now that I really should find copies of each and start digging in again.
I’ve had the great pleasure of watching Guthrie perform live a number of times over the years, and a chance to meet and chat with him a few times along the way. Coincidentally, the first time I ever saw him in person was that same day as the Racer X show — just before it, in fact, as we were waiting in that line in Anaheim, unsure if we’d actually make it through the door. I left my buddy to go to the restroom, and as I was approaching, Guthrie was on his way out. I said hello and we had a quick chat. Every time I’ve talked with him, I’ve been overwhelmed by his humility, generosity and good humor. Just one of the coolest dudes ever, and an absolute musical genius.
All this to say that I experienced a very special event during NAMM in January 2011. At the time I was playing with a band called Cockeyed Optimist, a female-fronted hard rock band based in Orange County, and through them I had my industry insider pass to NAMM that year. I was staying with my band mates at their home in Laguna Niguel during the event, catching excited rides up in the morning and exhausted rides back in the afternoon. NAMM is terribly exhausting — hours of constant noise, standing and walking, not to mention all the mingling, which by this point had an extra element to it, since I was studying music in college and kept running into people I was already playing and studying with out in the world.
There was a buzz one day about a special performance — word that Guthrie Govan would be playing along with some other legends. So after the show, through my insistence, my bandmates and I drove out to the venue. As fate would have it, we were informed that the show was meant to have separate bands, but for one reason or another that fell through, and so Guthrie Govan, Bryan Beller and Marco Minnemann were left without supporting acts. They decided they would each learn and perform a few original songs together, as a band. The feeling in the room was electrifying. These legends were performing together for the first time, just for us, and the fun and excitement they were having was infectious. We didn’t know it then, but we were witnessing in real time the birth of what would become the Aristocrats — a band that would go on to record, write and perform together to this day.
At about the halfway point, my friends were exhausted from the day and tired of indulging me, and they let me know the ship was sailing. I was caught with the same feeling I’d had at the Racer X show — that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I missed this. So, in a time before Uber, with no certain or logical way to get back to their place in a neighborhood not serviced by public transportation, I let them know I would find my own way back. Shocked, they asked me seriously if I was sure, and I said yes. They left, and I enjoyed every second of that performance.
Afterward, as people were making their way out — many of them surely returning to NAMM mayhem the next morning — I started making phone calls. I didn’t really know where I was, but I knew one of my college classmates and band mate in the college pop band lived somewhere in that general area. I called her, asked if she had any ideas, and she called another one of our class/bandmates. We began a relay — she picked me up and brought me to meet up with the other classmate, who then drove me out to Laguna Niguel. It was a mission, and just great fun hanging out with them along the way. I got there late and was buzzing, and the next day I was exhausted.
It wouldn’t be too long afterward that I’d see these musicians perform again as the Aristocrats, on one of their early tours at the Baked Potato in Hollywood. And then in February 2024 — a whopping 13 years after that first performance — Ryan and I drove out to Portland to see the Aristocrats perform at one of our favorite venues, Mississippi Studios. It was one of their first shows after the release of their latest album, which I believe had only come out a few days before, so we got to watch some of the earliest public performances of that material. The energy of the band was much like their very first performance — three monster players totally cool, non-pretentious and down to earth, just having such a great time. Mississippi Studios has a balcony with a few seats upstairs and a walkway that goes out over and along the stage, and we watched the entire show from just over the stage, basically a bird’s-eye view just above the action. One of the songs we watched performed from the new album that night has made it into our set — “Aristoclub.” It’s one of their most straightforward and least shreddy songs, thankfully for our sake.
St0rk
The last musician I’d like to talk about in this realm of acrobatic guitar is Shane Gibson — lesser known than most of the other names I’ve mentioned, and tragically gone way too soon. In his lifetime he gained the most fame and notoriety as a touring guitarist for the band Korn. For the record, I always thought Korn’s music was dog shit. I remember being in elementary school and seeing the other little rocker kids who were all about Korn and Slipknot — neither of those bands ever clicked with me. Regardless, that was Shane’s big gig, but I was brought to his music through his performance and instructional videos. When I first discovered him, he only had one CD available, which I ordered and listened to on repeat. I believe those recordings were self-produced, and a couple of them were essentially demos for what he’d later release with the band Stork. I bought his instructional DVD, which was just impossible for me — he had an insane technique — but I would work through it anyway.
For a time he was endorsed by Carvin guitars, which I loved. My Carvin Bolt is the guitar I’ve had the longest. At a time when I sold off all my guitars, pedals, amps and so on to fund a one-way international trip, this is the one guitar I kept, leaving it in the care of a trusted friend for years as I traveled the world. I would frequent the Carvin store in Hollywood on trips to Hollywood Boulevard. Meanwhile, in Covina, California, there was a lonely Carvin store that shut down several years before Carvin eventually closed all their stores and rebranded as Kiesel — but somehow, a little before that Covina store closed, they hosted a clinic by none other than Shane Gibson. He demonstrated his highly technical and inventive instrumental guitar songs, such as “Doooosh” and “Ducksinapond.” I had a chance to meet him then, and we ended up becoming online acquaintances.
Not too long after, I reached out to him for a private lesson and drove out to his apartment in Culver City, California, where we had some good chats and a good lesson — he guided me on picking and on incorporating arpeggios into my playing. I watched as he grew more popular and widely known for his instrumental work and projects like SchwarzenatoR — an Arnold Schwarzenegger-themed metal band with drummer Thomas Lang, another super shredder, that incorporated samples and a humorous blend of technical metal playing and, well, Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was delighted to hear about the formation of the band Stork, whose first album had the definitive recordings of my favorite Shane Gibson instrumentals. Stork released that first album in 2009, and their second — which saw the band grow from an instrumental project to a vocal one featuring vocalist VK Lynne — was released in 2014, after Shane passed at the age of 35. His death sent shockwaves through the guitar world: a rising figure gone in his prime.
The last time I saw Shane was at the NAMM show, I believe in early 2012. We ran into each other randomly, and I was touched by his enthusiasm, asking me genuinely how I’d been. We had a good chat and walked through the show together until he got to his next appointment, and then I went off wandering into the noise. It’s been an honor to learn, practice and perform his song “Ducksinapond” — to connect with his spirit and put some of his music out into the world. RIP Shane.
Our current list of covers are as follows:
Paul Gilbert – Love is the Saddest Thing, Hurry Up, Curse of Castle Dragon
Racer X – Catapult to Extinction, King of the Monsters
Shane Gibson/St0rk – Ducksinapond
The Aristocrats – Aristoclub
Nick Johnston – Sandmonster
I cut together a video with portions of each of these songs from our last performance. You can watch it here:
We’re now working on an instrumental arrangement of Zomby Woof by Frank Zappa, In the Goo of the Evening by Mattias Eklund — which features some of the most challenging rhythmic figures I’ve ever learned – and Uncle Skunk by Guthrie Govan.
These days I don’t listen to a lot of shred music — I haven’t for a number of years. My tastes change and shift around all the time, and I’ve got a list of artists I always return to and albums I’ll listen to on repeat throughout the years. But it’s been a pleasure to return to material that brought me so much excitement and inspiration at an earlier point in my playing. The material still challenges and inspires me greatly. And although I’d given up on my dream of playing such technical guitar, even though I’m playing bass in this project, there are still plenty of technical challenges to my playing — it’s demanded lots of hours, focus and attention to learn the parts and keep up with my bandmates.
Beyond the songs, we’ve got a short list of other covers in mind, but we’re shifting focus towards original instrumentals, of which both Ryan and I have several contributions. I’ll finish by sharing a recording of a very early instrumental piece of mine which I called simply “Crazy Stuff.” I originally wrote it when I was about 15 or 16. Here’s a recording from 2015 done entirely by Ryan. It’s got this feeling of 2000s metal all over it. He recorded it according to my arrangement, but really added some awesome leads and extra guitar layers. Soon we’ll be working out a new arrangement for the three-piece band.
I’m really excited for this project, especially to be digging into original music. Ryan has a huge catalogue of ideas that would fit this type of project perfectly, and we’re beginning to dig into them now.
One last note: in the time since I began this entry, a new contender for the band name emerged naturally in a conversation — my favorite name yet, “Finger Wizard.” I thought it was perfect, silly and stupid – but perfect. Unfortunately the band mates disagreed, hopefully they come around. Otherwise we continue as “The Port Orford Shreds”
Our next performance will be on July 25, 2026 at Mr Eds Underground Pub in Port Orford. Rock on.
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