In the secluded tranquility of a wooded canyon, far removed from the bustling energy of Hollywood, lies the private sanctuary of Steven Seagal. Renowned as a movie actor and martial arts expert, Seagal is also a dedicated blues guitarist and aficionado. His retreat serves as both a creative haven and a museum, housing an extraordinary collection of blues guitars, arguably one of the world’s finest. Among Persian artifacts and Eastern tapestries reside rows of vintage Marshall amps and guitar cases safeguarding iconic instruments from blues royalty – Freddie, B.B., and Albert King.
Seagal’s dedication to preserving these instruments, once wielded by legends like the Kings, Bo Diddley, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Jimi Hendrix, has earned him respect among blues enthusiasts. Unlike many celebrities, he has invested significant resources in rescuing and restoring these historic guitars.
Recently, Vintage Guitar visited Seagal, accompanied by ZZ Top’s Billy F Gibbons, a fellow blues historian, to celebrate three Flying V guitars famously played by Albert King. The two guitarists spent time examining, playing, and discussing these instruments, now prized possessions within Seagal’s remarkable collection.
The 1959 Gibson Flying V: Albert King’s Lost and Found Masterpiece
Billy F Gibbons: These guitars are incredibly significant; they embody Albert’s musical voice. Look at the condition of these tuning keys – they’ve stood the test of time. Anyone fortunate enough to play a late-1950s Gibson Flying V would agree it’s not only visually striking but also represents the pinnacle of Gibson’s craftsmanship.
Steven Seagal: I hope displaying these guitars brings joy to blues aficionados and those who appreciate them as much as we do. These instruments tell stories. When you hold them, they almost seem to play themselves. They possess an incredible spirit, particularly the Gibson korina and the Erlewine – they’re full of mojo.
BFG: (Pointing to the guitar body) Look at the indentation Albert made on the top from the pressure of his hand!
SS: Yes, as you can see, Albert practically wore a hole in the solid wood from playing it so intensely.
BFG: Out of curiosity, how did this particular guitar resurface?
SS: Legend has it that Albert lost it in a craps game in the late ’60s. Whether it was directly in the game or to settle a debt, it was sold for $2,500. The buyer was supposed to keep it forever, promising never to sell. And it vanished for over two decades, hidden away in Memphis. But I knew who had it and eventually tracked him down. I’ve kept it relatively quiet for years; few have seen it.
BFG: Languishing in Memphis all those years…
SS: Exactly. I believe it’s the most important blues guitar globally, without question, and the best-sounding V out there – a voice from another dimension. It has an unbelievable tone and carries all of Albert’s energy within it. It’s one of my most prized possessions. I even have Stevie Ray Vaughan’s Firebird with the names Stevie, Albert King, and Muddy Waters carved into it, but this one is even more significant.
I’ve played it through a late-’60s plexi 100-watt with a 30-watt slant cab for larger venues, and currently through a 100-watt Fender tweed Twin, which is what I’m using now. Pair this guitar with two or four of those Twins and… it screams, yet with beautiful harmonics and incredible tone.
What amplifiers do you think Albert used when recording?
SS: He used surprisingly basic amps, didn’t he? Solid-state Acoustic amps… and later, a Roland Jazz Chorus – another solid-state amp.
BFG: I can’t say for sure what Albert used in the studio. Live, I remember seeing him with a tall Acoustic amp, and later he added a Maestro chorus pedal. He even had a custom flight case for his guitar, which he would place in front of the amp onstage. When he wanted more volume, he’d simply move the case as a baffle.
SS: I’m also unsure about his studio amp setup. But I know with Albert, it wasn’t about the amp – solid-state or tube – it was all about the player; his unique finger technique and how he extracted tone from his guitars.
There’s a rumor Albert recorded with a small tweed amp, like Steve Cropper’s Fender Harvard. Any thoughts?
BFG: Possibly. I actually own Steve’s Harvard amp and his old Telecaster. Cropper even scratched his address into that guitar (laughs)!
One thing that always struck me about Albert was not just his incredible blues guitar solos – he was a master of the statement – but also his incredibly appealing singing voice.
SS: Friendly, and warm.
BFG: The pinnacle was when he collaborated with the Memphis Horns and… was it Booker T & the MGs in the rhythm section?
SS: Yes, all Memphis musicians.
BFG: Steve Cropper…
SS: …Steve Cropper, David Porter, “Duck” Dunn, all of them…
BFG: “Born Under a Bad Sign” from 1967 – the sound was phenomenal. I was at Kiva, I believe, during the recording sessions. We were talking during a break, and I commented on the richness of the Stax sound. Over the years, many have wondered about that signature sound because the records had such a cohesive quality. I asked them, “Was there a conscious effort to design that sound? Was it planned?” Albert laughed and gestured to Steve Cropper to answer. Cropper asked if I’d ever been to Stax studio in South Memphis. I admitted, “Not if I could avoid it.” It was located in an old movie theater in a rough part of town – truly dangerous territory. It turned out they had so many break-ins that they ultimately bolted the amps to the concrete floor. They also bolted down mic stands, drums, anything that could be stolen. As a result, nothing ever moved, and the sound remained consistent. They wouldn’t even allow the cleaning crew to rearrange anything.
The 1966 Gibson Flying V: A Stax Era Staple
Here’s Albert’s 1966 Gibson Flying V.
BFG: Another prime example of a fantastic playing instrument. Most Gibson guitars from this era are still exceptional. They seemed to maintain a higher standard of quality for longer compared to Fender after the CBS acquisition in 1965.
SS: I believe Gibson gifted this one to him. He had already lost his original korina V and replaced it with this ’66. Albert wrote and recorded many famous songs – like “Born Under a Bad Sign” – with it during his late-’60s Stax period.
Do you think Albert was drawn to the Flying V for a specific reason?
SS: He certainly made it famous, I can tell you that much.
But why not choose a more conventional blues guitar – like an archtop similar to T-Bone Walker, a semi-hollow like B.B. King, or a Stratocaster?
SS: He was an entertainer, first and foremost! There was a visual aspect to it.
BFG: It was about style, you know? The V wasn’t a mainstream instrument at the time, but for many players, it became a statement piece because of its unconventional…
… Striking?
BFG: …Yes, a striking instrument. Mine is a ’58; was Albert’s earlier?
SS: Its serial number indicates 1959, but some parts are from the early ’60s. I believe Gibson gave that guitar to Albert around 1962.
What guitar was Albert playing before the V? Does anyone know?
BFG: I don’t think he played another guitar before. I believe he transitioned directly from drums to the V – just started playing. The V might have sparked his interest, intrigued him. He probably thought, “I’m going to embrace this instrument.” I’m not deeply familiar with his early work; I have some old singles like “Let’s Have a Natural Ball.” But his career is well-documented, and it’s often after an artist passes that their contributions are fully appreciated.
SS: Speaking of passing, towards the end of his life, Albert wasn’t well. The last time I saw him, he looked unwell; his eyes were swollen, and his face was puffy. He suffered a heart attack and asked a woman to drive him to the hospital. She agreed. Now, Albert was known for wearing a lot of jewelry, rings, and such. This woman, more concerned about his valuables than his life, drove him to the parking lot, stole his jewelry, and left him to die in the car. If she had just driven him to the emergency room entrance, he might still be with us today.
“Lucy”: Dan Erlewine’s Custom Creation for a Blues King
Tell us about the Dan Erlewine-made V…
SS: I’ve owned it for about eight years; I acquired all three around the same time. The Dan Erlewine V is crafted from black walnut, with a maple strip down the center; it’s called Lucy. I believe he called an earlier guitar “Lucy Blue.” Albert toured the world with this guitar; he gave interviews with it and about it. He claimed it was his ultimate guitar, but I think that was because the korina V was gone.
There’s a peculiar story associated with this guitar. I’ll let Peter (Seagal’s friend and guitar repairman) share it; he worked on the guitar for a while.
Peter Skaltsis: This guitar was at my house for a considerable time while I was working on it. I was downstairs in my shop when my youngest son – who was seven at the time – came in crying, genuinely frightened. He said, “There’s a black man sitting on the sofa – a big black man.” I rushed upstairs, thinking someone had broken in, but the room was empty. I still get chills recounting this. I called Steven, and he suggested…
SS: Show the boy a picture of Albert King and ask him if that’s who he saw. He said, “Yes, that’s him… God’s honest truth.”
BFG: Wow… A seven-year-old wouldn’t invent something like that. I believe these instruments are imbued with the energy of the player.
… Especially a force as powerful as Albert’s.
BFG: He poured his soul into the guitar.
SS: Albert loved this guitar.
BFG: He did; he played it religiously. This guitar is perhaps more widely recognized and immediately associated with Albert.
Because of his later work with it?
SS: Yes, he played it everywhere… until the end of his career. It was the last guitar he played. I think the V you gave him, Billy, wasn’t played much by Albert.
BFG: Yeah, I don’t think so. I’ve only seen a couple of photos of him with that V.
Albert wasn’t one to have spare guitars; he played one guitar all night. With all that string bending, did you ever witness him break a string?
SS: Never.
BFG: No, neither did I. And those two-string bends he did, man… (imitates Albert’s bends).
That technique was widely imitated – especially by Stevie Ray Vaughan.
SS: Stevie copied a lot of his style.
BFG: Albert played upside down on the guitar (strung right-handed, played left-handed), which isn’t easy to do and maintain technical precision.
And he used an alternate tuning…
BFG: Because of his unconventional style, he created sounds that are otherwise impossible; Jimi Hendrix was similar.
I recall one show in 1972, featuring Albert and B.B. King. I was asked to fill in for the guitarist in the opening band, whom I knew well. It was an opportunity to play on the same bill as Albert and B.B. I was warming up backstage when Albert approached me. I think I had a Fender Telecaster at the time, strung with the heaviest gauge strings, thinking a bluesman must play with the heaviest strings available. Albert asked to play my guitar. He held it upside-down and played a bit. Then he asked, “Why are you using these strings?” I told him it was to get that bluesy sound. He replied, “Why are you working so hard? Get something light!” (laughs)
What the old blues players did before light gauge strings were available was buy sets of Gibson Mono-Steel or Black Diamond strings. They’d discard the sixth string, then move every string over one position and use a banjo string for the high E.
Towards the end of his career, Albert’s decline was rapid; he was active until shortly before his passing.
SS: That’s right. He started feeling unwell and mentioned, “I’m thinking about retiring.” Then he was gone.
BFG: He had a farewell party one Friday night in West Memphis at a small, intimate venue. He announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is it – a going-away party for me, Albert King; I’m calling it quits.” It was a touching moment. We were talking with him during a break, and he then said, “Don’t miss tomorrow night, I’m gonna make a comeback!” (laughs)!
SS: That sounds just like Albert.
BFG: He was loved by so many. There’s a small barbeque joint, Rendezvous, in an alley off Union Street near the Peabody in Memphis; run by Nick Vergos and his father. The police and Albert King always ate there for free. And he could devour ribs like no one else.
SS: He was a rib-eating machine…
BFG: You didn’t want to be between him and his ribs. He disliked paparazzi, especially when eating. There was a photographer who frequented the nightclub circuit, making a living with Polaroid souvenir photos, selling them for five dollars each. You’d find him on Beale Street; he’d pop up anywhere. One time, he tried to photograph Albert without asking, and Albert was not pleased…
SS: I know, I witnessed Albert confront someone about that. And he always carried a pistol; you might not always see it, but I saw him draw it once, a small black one he carried on his right hip.
It seems everyone who knew him has a memorable Albert King story to share.
BFG: On the way here, a fond memory of Albert came to mind: My girlfriend, Christine, organized a surprise birthday party for me… I was living in Memphis then. The big surprise was when I entered the room, she had gathered close friends, and there was Albert sitting at the piano. She had rented a large room at the Peabody, and we had a fantastic time.
You know, everyone who has an Albert story, it’s guaranteed to be good and generally uplifting, though interpretations may vary.
SS: We all adored Albert, but we knew he could be fierce, a large man with a temper; he could be quite cantankerous. Yet, he was also incredibly charming; he had a magnetic personality and a great sense of humor.
BFG: Speaking of stories, until recently, I didn’t realize Albert King started as a drummer.
SS: That’s correct.
BFG: Which band was he in?
SS: I’m not sure, but when I played with Elmore James’ cousin, Homesick James, he told me, “Yeah, Albert King used to play drums for me.”
He also played drums with Jimmy Reed and John Brim.
BFG: Oh, yes. And I think Albert either went by the name T-99, or there was a nightclub called The T-99. Back in the ’50s, he had a brand new Buick. What was the top-of-the-line model, the Buick Special, the Delta 88 or something? Albert had these air horns mounted on the front fender – giant, three-foot-long trumpet air horns from a truck. Years later, our friend who owned the Peabody – Gary Bells…
SS: …Right, Jack and Gary Bells.
BFG: …Gary bought the Bar Kays’ recording studio, renovated it, and renamed it Kiva Recording Services. As that was happening, he became Albert’s manager.
SS: …for a time, yes.
BFG: I remember when the studio was finished, Gary invited me to check it out. It was impressive. They had transformed a dilapidated structure into something beautiful. Albert was in the office, and recently, someone had shown me a picture of his Buick with the massive trumpet air horns. I mentioned it to him, and he laughed. A few days later, we were walking down Beale Street. About a block ahead, we saw Albert, who stepped out of a building and motioned for us to come over. He said, “Come on, I want to show you something.” He had just bought a brand new Chevy Suburban, parked behind the building. We walked through and out back. He said, “Yeah, I got myself a new car. Beautiful, big, brand new Suburban.” And he had the same truck air horns on the front! Albert said, “I remember you mentioning that, and it reminded me.” He said, “I knew something was missing!” (laughs)
Another friend, Tony, his parents owned the distribution for Taylor frozen-drink machines; daiquiris, margaritas, frozen ice cream – anything cold and slushy. They had distribution across Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, and later New Orleans, which was incredible… selling frozen drinks in New Orleans?
SS: Daiquiris everywhere!
BFG: The Taylor company developed a new frozen-drink machine and required all distributors to buy 50. But they had a design flaw, causing the product to freeze solid. Tony found a solution from an older gentleman, bought all the machines from his dad – who thought he was crazy – and secured a storefront on Beale Street. It was across from the old Daisy Theater – prime location on the East Side when it was becoming popular. Anyway, we were visiting him en route to Vegas, walking to the daiquiri shop when we saw Albert – he had just left Tony’s shop and was standing on the corner. He had a large soft ice cream cone, wearing denim bib overalls, a black-and-white checkered sport coat, and brown patent leather shoes in a comically large size (laughs)! He was eating ice cream and smoking a pipe simultaneously.
You know, there’s Freddie King, B.B. King, and Albert King – you can’t go wrong with any of them. All are phenomenal players. As a fan of Albert’s playing, it was fascinating to learn he started on drums. Being left-handed, everything was reversed, but it didn’t hinder him; he developed a uniquely personal style.
SS: His note bending is unmatched; he did it better than anyone.
Anyone who bends those wide intervals is referencing Albert in some way.
SS: Like bending those huge steps between notes.
BFG: And he was so entertaining. Seeing him perform was always a good time because he loved having a good time. Albert transformed every small juke joint appearance into a memorable event.
Steven Seagal’s Enduring Blues Passion
Seagal’s New Blues
Steven Seagal is constantly working on new projects. Despite the demands of action movies and public appearances, music remains a central focus.
His latest musical endeavor revisits the classic blues he deeply cherishes. For those unfamiliar with his playing or previous releases, Seagal’s interpretation of the blues form is worth exploring. Although in early stages, his current project’s concept is compelling, hinting at a potentially impactful record.
Is there a theme to your new project?
It’s inspired by hill-country music. Historically, even within the Delta blues scene, there was “hill-country music.” It was a blend of black musicians familiar with blues and white musicians steeped in bluegrass. They influenced each other. I’m unsure how much was recorded, but growing up in Louisiana, I heard a lot of it; it was just music people played. R.L. Burnside was a prominent figure in that style.
For instrumentation, I’m bringing in some exceptional musicians, including legends from Nashville. I’m incorporating fiddle, mandolin, and banjo alongside traditional blues instruments. I’ve long envisioned fusing hill-country bluegrass with Delta and Louisiana blues; it’s deeply emotive, with great grooves, feel, and soul. It represents an often-overlooked chapter in music history.
Is the music primarily electric?
Yes. We begin with electric blues as the foundation, then integrate the mountain instrument flavor; it’s a fusion of country and old blues with electric sounds.
What stage is the music currently in?
Presently, I have a trio. I wrote all the songs and recorded the guitar parts, along with bass and drums. I recorded those in Memphis. I lived there and worked at Papa Mitchell’s studio; he’s a close friend and helped me capture the authentic vibe. Then I came to L.A., where I brought in Vinnie Colaiuta and Abe Laboriel for drums and bass. They overdubbed their parts onto mine. And David Lindley contributed some slide guitar. I had specific ideas, and they delivered perfectly. Then I added some Nashville musicians playing fiddle, mandolin, and banjo. The music is in its basic form – rough rhythm track mixes without vocals or solos. I plan to add extensive solos, feature surprise guests, and incorporate gospel vocals from Memphis church singers to infuse a gospel feel.
I hope to complete the album and release it in time for Grammy consideration in the Blues category. Like my previous album, which featured Robert Lockwood Jr., Koko Taylor, and members of Muddy Waters’ band – legends who made their final recordings on that project – I’m doing this for them and for the music itself, not for personal gain.
What guitars are you using on the tracks so far?
So far, I’ve used a Fender Broadcaster, an early-’50s Stratocaster, and a Gibson Firebird, all vintage instruments.
– Wolf Marshall
Dan Erlewine and “Lucy”: Crafting a Guitar Fit for a King
Dan E. And Lucy – building a guitar fit for a king
In the fall of 1970, Albert King performed at the Ann Arbor Blues Festival in Michigan. Among the audience was Dan Erlewine, a local guitar repairman, aspiring blues guitarist, and stagehand for the event.
“When Albert played, I was supposed to be his backup guitarist,” Erlewine recalls. “But I chickened out completely, and my friend, Pat O’Daugherty, took my place. Those familiar with King know he was at his peak then, and it was truly like being in the presence of a king!”
The following fall, King returned to Ann Arbor to play at the Canterbury Coffeehouse. Erlewine approached him about building a custom left-handed V.
“I told him I had 125-year-old black walnut wood that I bought in 1965,” he said. “In true hippie – and likely inappropriate – fashion, I described the wood as being ‘the same color as your skin.’ Of course, I meant it as a compliment, which Albert must have understood because he visited my shop the next day to have me measure his original Lucy – his ’59 Gibson Flying V.”
Looking at it now, Erlewine’s “blueprint” looks like a simple tracing on graph paper with scribbled notes and measurements. But it was the genesis of one of King’s most cherished guitars. We spoke with him about the guitar and his experience.
What kind of notes did you make on the guitar?
Notes like “flat-wound G string,” “Black-Diamond ‘Silver’ strings,” and “D, G, D, G, B, E tuning.” Unbeknownst to me then, Albert didn’t use standard tuning. He tuned a whole step down, plus another whole step down on the low E and A strings, resulting in C, F, C, F, A, D. However, either Albert wasn’t tuned down a whole step that day, or I was mistaken, as I noted his tuning as D, G, D, G, B, E, which is a step higher.
Did Albert request any specific custom touches?
Absolutely. He wanted his name inlaid on the fretboard and “Lucy” inlaid on the peghead. Browsing my pearl stash, he chose white pearl and abalone – abalone for position markers at the third, fifth, seventh, ninth, and 12th frets, for visibility under stage lighting.
How long did the construction take?
I delivered Lucy the following spring, in May 1972. Apart from album covers, I didn’t see the guitar (or Albert) again until 1989, when he sent it to me in Athens, Ohio – via Greyhound bus – for fret work and fine-tuning. When I picked it up at the bus station, it was in its case, but not boxed; the case was simply tied inside a jute onion bag, completely visible – tags, venue stickers, and even his name and address, easily seen by any guitar-savvy thief.
What condition was it in?
Well, it had been worked on at least twice before. My cousin, Mark Erlewine, who lives in Texas, had refretted it in the late ’70s or early ’80s. And in the mid-to-late ’80s, Albert’s equipment trailer was swept into a creek by a tornado, and Lucy spent 24 hours underwater, causing many joints to come unglued. Rick Hancock in Memphis respectfully repaired it.
I turned Lucy around that weekend and sent her back on the bus. About a year later, Albert played a blues club in Columbus, and I went to see him with my wife, Joan, daughter Meredith, and her friend Ellen. Albert was playing Lucy, and at the end of the show, he asked us to stand and take a bow, then invited us backstage.
And then you went another long period without seeing it, correct?
Yes. In 2004 – 33 years after I built it – I was asked to make a replica for Teddy, a guitarist from Norway. He was surprised to learn I still had the black walnut, having moved it from town to town, home to home, and shop to shop since 1965. I had built a few guitars from it concurrently with Albert’s, including a Les Paul-style for a friend, and two Strat copies – one for Jerry Garcia and one for Otis Rush. But by then, I was deeply involved in guitar repair and had little time for building, except for occasional custom orders. I never built another V. And I hadn’t used the walnut again because I planned to make furniture with it. Before I knew it, 30 years had passed!
Teddy picked up his guitar in the spring of ’05. Later that year, I was contacted by a left-handed player, a young woman named Alicia, who wanted a true-lefty, like Albert’s. Around that time – unexpectedly, like Teddy and Alicia’s calls – I received a call from Steven Seagal, who mentioned he had acquired Lucy and wanted me to give it a checkup. I had seen some of his movies but didn’t realize he was a serious blues guitarist. His friend and guitar tech, Peter Skaltsis, delivered Lucy to me.
What was it like having it back in the shop?
It was a great feeling having it while I was building the new left-handed one. It even inspired me to start making one for myself – another true lefty, even though I’m right-handed and likely won’t be able to play it.
So, have you reconsidered building Lucy copies with the remaining black walnut?
Interestingly, about four years ago, I pulled it out and cut enough to make a run of 20 of them. But to date, I’ve only made three – two righties, one lefty. The one I’ve been working on for two years now is a lefty.
– Ward Meeker
Albert King – “As The Years Go Passing By” Live Sweden 19
Steven Seagal, Mojo Priest
Albert King’s legacy is deeply intertwined with the Gibson Flying V. He not only popularized this distinctive guitar shape within blues music but also shaped its identity as a powerful instrument for soulful expression. From the elusive ’59 Korina V to the dependable ’66 and the custom-built “Lucy,” Albert King’s guitars are more than just instruments; they are extensions of his unique voice and enduring spirit. His influence resonates through generations of guitarists, ensuring his place as a true king of the blues guitar.
