My First Encounter With the Hammond
There’s something about the Hammond B3 organ that gets inside you. It’s not just the sound—it’s the way it breathes, the way it growls, the way it sings when you play it right. The first time I heard one live, I didn’t even know what I was hearing, but I knew I wanted to be a part of it.
Growing up around music, I played a lot of piano early on, but it wasn’t until I got deeper into performing that I found myself drawn to the B3. It was in the clubs, on the records I loved, and on the stages I wanted to be on. That tone—so soulful, so full of life—was calling. When I finally sat down at one for the first time, it felt like discovering a new language. One that could express things I didn’t know how to say yet.
Soul and Rock Roots
In my early years with Band Du Jour, I was experimenting a lot—piano, electric keys, organ, whatever added the right flavor. But once I really got my hands on a Hammond B3 with a Leslie speaker, everything changed. That classic soul-rock sound opened up a new side of my playing.
There’s something deeply emotional about the B3. In soul and gospel music, it lifts the spirit. In rock and blues, it punches through the mix with grit and authority. It’s got this raw edge, but it can also be smooth and elegant. I started learning how to work the drawbars, how to ride the volume pedal, how to make it shout or whisper—and it became a key part of my voice as a musician.
With Band Du Jour, I used it to push grooves deeper, to add texture and fire to the jams. Later, with the Derek Trucks Band, it became an essential part of our sound—sitting alongside Derek’s slide guitar, locking in with the rhythm section, and filling out the space with warmth and grit.
Learning the Language of the B3
The Hammond B3 isn’t like a piano. It responds to touch and feel in a completely different way. You have to learn how to “speak” through it. It’s part keyboard, part machine, part living thing. And when you plug it into a Leslie cabinet and start working those switches, you’re not just playing notes—you’re shaping wind, fire, and soul.
For me, mastering the B3 took time. It taught me patience. It taught me restraint. It also taught me to listen more closely to what the music needed. Sometimes the best thing you can do is hold one note and let it shimmer. Other times, you lean into it and drive the whole band forward.
That sensitivity—knowing when to lead and when to support—carried over into every other aspect of my playing. Whether I’m playing a roots tune, a jazz-inspired jam, or a Grateful Dead groove, I bring that same intention and touch I learned on the Hammond.
Bringing It Into New Spaces
When I joined Leftover Salmon in 2000, I was stepping into a world that didn’t traditionally include keyboards—especially not a big old B3 organ. Jamgrass is driven by acoustic instruments: mandolin, banjo, fiddle. But I found ways to blend the B3 into that mix without overpowering it.
I’d dial back the volume, use it for subtle pads, or bring it in for short bursts of energy. It became another color on the palette, something that could lift a chorus or build a bridge in a way no other instrument could. It helped broaden the sonic range of the band and bring a different kind of soul to the stage.
That experience showed me the B3’s true versatility. It doesn’t have to scream to make a statement. In fact, some of the most powerful moments come when it’s tucked just under the surface, holding everything together.
The Legacy Lives On
These days, I still use the Hammond B3 in many of my projects—especially with Steely Dead and the Very Jerry Band. Those bands lean heavily on organ-driven sound, and it gives me the chance to go deep into that space again. Whether I’m channeling the jazzier tones of Steely Dan or the gospel-blues vibe of Jerry Garcia’s solo material, the B3 helps me find that emotional center.
It’s also been a mainstay in my solo shows and the McKay Brothers. Even in folk and country-inspired settings, a soft organ part can add warmth and weight that makes a song land a little deeper.
And it’s not just about the notes—it’s the feel. The Hammond reminds me that music isn’t just about perfection. It’s about soul. It’s about expression. It’s about taking a breath and letting the instrument speak for itself.
A Sound That Keeps Me Inspired
After decades of playing, the Hammond B3 still inspires me. It’s kept me curious, creative, and grounded. It’s been with me in clubs, on big festival stages, in quiet sessions with my brother, and in late-night jams where everything just clicks.
It’s more than an instrument—it’s a companion. A storyteller. A bridge between genres and generations.
Every time I power one up and feel that low-end rumble, I’m reminded why I started playing in the first place. And as long as I’ve got songs to play and stories to tell, you can bet the Hammond B3 will be right there with me—still shaping my sound, still guiding the groove, and still speaking in the language of soul.