Classic Rock Classics: Slide Guitar Essentials

The most effective slide guitarists — from Delta blues pioneers to journeymen of pedal-steel twang — know how to make their instruments moan and wail. Basically, they know how to sing without opening their mouths. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Gary Rossington and the well-traveled David Lindley, both of whom died last month, were masters of their craft, detonating fretted and non-fretted fireworks on some of classic rock’s most timeless tunes. 

Though the technique itself is ancient, having evolved from African and Hawaiian playing styles, the slide hit a peak of cultural prominence in the late 1960s and ’70s. Seemingly every rock guitarist had one in their arsenal, and some developed signature approaches with them: Duane Allman’s bluesy virtuosity; George Harrison’s harmonized melodies; Mick Taylor’s explosively good taste; Bonnie Raitt’s evocative, dust-blown finesse. Meanwhile, as country- and folk-rock bloomed, steel guitar pros like “Sneaky” Pete Kleinow were suddenly all over FM radio. 

The popularity makes sense: The electric guitar was still in its relative infancy, and players were eager to experiment. But the slide was never a gimmick. The physical limitations of the technique became useful tools: The glissando, carrying gracefully from one pitch to another, emphasizes the importance of each note choice; and a naturally imprecise vibrato lends itself to deeply expressive licks and lines — often as memorable as the hooks they’re supposedly there to fortify. Let’s revisit 10 of the best solos from the classic-rock era. 

The Allman Brothers Band
“Dreams” (1969)
(Duane Allman on slide guitar) 

Duane Allman sounds gloriously unhinged during the solo on “Dreams,” a moody, jazz-influenced piece from the Allman Brothers’ 1969 debut. The guitarist switches back and forth between slide and traditionally fretted segments, blurring the techniques together for maximum impact; when he pulls out the glass, you actually feel it. It’s a cinematic three minutes, repeatedly building and releasing tension, and it peaks with an almost demented run of triplet phrases that skyrockets into a higher octave. When Gregg Allman’s gritty holler comes back for another verse, it just feels like a bonus.  

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
“Teach Your Children” (1970)
(Jerry Garcia on pedal steel) 

Jerry Garcia couldn’t possibly overshadow the silky, blanketing vocal harmonies of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young — and who would want to? Instead, the Grateful Dead maestro maneuvers gracefully through this laidback pedal-steel guest spot, playing off the vocal melody in the seams and stretching his legs a bit during the instrumental slots. Nothing here is flashy — it’s just some breeze-like sweetness to match the country-folk acoustic sway and the peace-and-love themes of Graham Nash’s lyric.

The Allman Brothers Band
“Statesboro Blues” (1971)
(Duane Allman on slide guitar) 

Duane Allman only lived to age 24, dying after a tragic motorcycle accident. Still, he remains the slide guitar virtuoso — his playing was wild yet lucid, exacting in emotion yet free in form. All of the early Allman Brothers albums are built on that foundation, but none are more downright fun than their 1971 live set, At Fillmore East. The LP immediately starts scorching with their version of Blind Willie McTell’s “Statesboro Blues,” Allman’s slide snaking and shuddering from start to finish — often in a wicked call and response with Gregg (the ascending run around 1:11 is particularly jaw-dropping), elsewhere under his own spotlight. A few seconds in, it’s clearly Duane’s song.

John Lennon
“How Do You Sleep?” (1971)
(George Harrison on slide guitar) 

This semi-deep cut from John Lennon’s 1971 masterpiece Imagine is widely cited as an unsubtle diss track toward his former Beatles bandmate Paul McCartney. (“The only thing you done was ‘Yesterday.’” Ouch.) But it should be remembered as a definitive showcase for George Harrison. In his solo work, he often brandished the slide as a device of delicacy and precision — the opening licks from “My Sweet Lord” are transcendently catchy. But he could also sling around in the mud with the best of them, as evidenced by the snarling solo that breaks out around the 2:40 mark. 

Lynyrd Skynyrd
“Free Bird” (1973)
(Gary Rossington on slide guitar)

There are two guitarists on “Free Bird,” the nine-minute epic that tailored Southern rock for stadiums. The first is the song’s co-writer, Allen Collins, who crafted the melancholy chord progression of the verses and cranked out a feral, Guitar Hero-worthy solo that launched a thousand copycats. The other guitarist is Gary Rossington, who contributes a more subtle counterpoint. In classic slide fashion, he echoes many of Ronnie Van Zant’s vocal melodies. (Lord help them — they can’t cha-a-a-a-a-a-a-ange.) And it’s impossible to hear the words “free” and “bird” without humming the opening melody, a sublime passage full of sweeping dives and high, woozy flourishes.

Led Zeppelin
“In My Time of Dying” (1975)
(Jimmy Page on slide guitar)

Jimmy Page wasn’t a slide guitar ace in the vein of Duane Allman or Ry Cooder. But he utilized the instrument to spine-chilling effect on several Led Zeppelin classics, including the 11-minute behemoth “In My Time of Dying.” Here, he and singer Robert Plant work almost as one organism, the voice and riff entangling word and sound. (The cascading line following “want nobody to mourn” sounds exactly like a person mourning.) Then you get to the solo, a heart-racing section full of almost cartoonish vibrato — sloppy in a uniquely Page-y way, untouchable in terms of raw energy.

Eagles
“Victim of Love” (1976)
(Joe Walsh on slide guitar)

Don Felder and Joe Walsh form a two-headed guitar monster on “Victim of Love,” the swaggering rocker from Eagles’ all-time blockbuster, Hotel California. The former carries the more conventional parts, anchoring the chorus with crunching arpeggios. The latter taps into the song’s edgy attitude, circling around Don Henley’s vocal and building to a brief but thrilling solo around the 2:45 mark. It’s impressive how much feeling he communicates with so few notes. The very first glissando is drawn out with extreme tension — a fitting choice for a song that walks “the wire, pain and desire.”

Yes
“Going for the One” (1977)
(Steve Howe on pedal steel) 

Yes frontman Jon Anderson is technically the only credited writer on this hard-driving prog-pop track, issued at the height of punk’s reign. But guitarist Steve Howe’s pedal steel is the driving force, carrying through the entire piece: the opening boogie-like riff, the twinkling arpeggios right ahead of the chorus, the dramatic chords swooping in before Anderson belts the title phrase. And in a frenzied flash of virtuosity, Howe even elbows some extra room for a full-on solo prior to the halfway mark, concluding with an aggressively soaring scale.

Jackson Browne
“Running on Empty” (1977)
(David Lindley on lap-steel guitar) 

In this eternal 1977 Jackson Browne staple, recorded live that August, the wide-open highways of Craig Doerge’s chugging piano are the ideal race track for David Lindley to zoom down. In the early verses, he chases the vocal melody with burnt-rubber sustain and gorgeous, ascending lines. But during an extended solo showcase, he veers off into his own lane, squealing intensely in a loose dialogue with Danny Kortchmar’s thrashing guitar chords. You can practically feel the sun rays on the Running on Empty album cover.  

Little Feat
“Dixie Chicken” (live) (1978)
(Lowell George on slide guitar)

“Dixie Chicken” was already a guitar classic back in 1973: a tight 3:55 of slow-grinding country-funk led by Lowell George’s slippery slide refrain and plenty of tightly orchestrated fills. But Little Feat expanded the song into a nine-minute powerhouse for the live take featured on Waiting for Columbus, spicing up the gumbo with horns, a lengthy keyboard break and some smoldering dual-guitar crossfire between George and Paul Barrere. The slide parts are always grooving, never bombastic, consistently balanced out by Barrere’s pinched harmonics and waves of psychedelic wah.