What the Hell Am I Listening To? - Keyboard Edition

"Tuning a mellotron doesn't." - Robert Fripp

A recent lunch where I managed to misidentify the keyboards on 96 Tears by ? and the Mysterians twice(!) plus a podcast from The Word entitled 'The 40 Noises That Built Pop' spurred me to put together this handy keyboard identification guide. Two caveats: this only goes up to the early 80s because, well, most music sucks after that AND I am not a keyboard player so jump in and correct me or point out any glaring omissions. And with that:

The Mostly Mechanical

The Hammond B3

The granddaddy of rock 'n' roll keyboards, the B3 worked by placing pickups near rotating metal tone wheels. If that weren't enough vibrato, they were often fed through rotating Leslie speakers that produced a Doppler effect on the listener. So many examples to choose from, but most every one is familiar with this Procol Harem classic:

The Clavinet

Essentially an electronic clavichord, the clavinet struck strings which were then amplified, but lacked the release mechanism of a piano. This action, similar to a guitarist's 'hammer-ons', produced a very percussive sound. Here Stevie Wonder drives the clavinet through a wah-wah pedal:

Fender Rhodes

The Rhodes uses metal tines struck by hammers to produce the initial wave form that was subsequently modified and amplified giving it a unique, smooth sound:

The Mellotron

This unwieldy, cantankerous mainstay of the Prog Rock idiom worked by running magnetic tape over playback heads. The tapes were actual samples of the instruments being emulated and in some cases the original string players are known. The use of tape and motors gives the Mellotron a unique sound that may capture the spirit of the original instrument, but introduces nuances of its own. Though the Moody Blues first brought the instrument to prominence, this cut from Genesis is one of my favorites:

And yes, kids: that's Peter "Sledgehammer" Gabriel on vocals and bat-head with Phil "Susudio" Collins on drums. The transition from the 70s to the 80s was rough on everyone.

The Transistors

The Farfisa

The Farfisa was born of a transistor accordion placing it somewhere between the mechanical and truly electrical. Sometimes confused with its close cousin the Vox Continental (below), you can hear it on the intro to this Percy Sledge classic:

Vox Continental

Designed as a replacement for tone-wheel organs like the B3, the Continental graced songs from "House of the Rising Sun" (1964) to Mark Knopfler's "Beryl" (2015). This is what you hear on "96 Tears". Dig the reversed key colors:

The Moog

The Moog (along with the ARP) was one of the first commercially available systems that could truly be called a synthesizer, albeit an analog one. After being introduced at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967, it spread quickly through the rock, pop, and, with Wendy Carlos, classical music worlds. A novelty hit in the 70s is probably its best-known exposure:

Finally, Digital

Yamaha DX7

Once dubbed "the worst sounding keyboard ever", the DX7 was the first commercially available digital synthesizer. It's poor reputation probably stemmed from overuse in the 80s and its association with schmaltz from groups like what had become of Chicago here:





From here on out, synths became more sophisticated and commonplace (even Queen finally gave in), able to replicate formerly unique timbres. Once that gave way to sampling, who knows what's making that sound? But for pre-1985 music at least, now you know what your listening to.