The one guitarist Jimi Hendrix crowned the “best in the universe”
It’s not difficult to find a guitar player who can easily recall the moment they first heard Jimi Hendrix.
A star born out of the fabric of time itself, Hendrix’s ability to play the instrument was perhaps only marginally dwarfed by his unique position as some kind of intergalactic guitar messiah. As developed in his imagination as one’s imagination may allow them to be, Hendrix transferred every philosophy towards humanity and creativity into his work on the six-string.
It would see him rise up from a casual backing band member into one of the greatest musicians the world has ever known. A triumphant player, if ever there was one, Hendrix had an idiosyncratic tone that seemed to not just rattle the airwaves but shape them into a new culture altogether. Without him, it would have been hard to imagine the 1960s as the boom of the counterculture it was. It means when picking out the greatest guitarist of all time, almost every player worth their salt would point toward the kaleidoscopic star.
However, Hendrix himself was rarely in that camp. Sure, Jimmy Page, David Gilmour, Eric Clapton, and countless other contemporaries would point to the ‘Voodoo Chile’ player as the best, but Hendrix rarely indulged in such egotistical plumping. Instead, he would use his space on chat shows and in interviews to share his love of other artists, including Terry Kath’s wondrous talent.
Terry Kath’s bravado was the key to both his success and his tragic death. The New York Times reported that the Chicago guitarist had spent the afternoon of January 23rd, 1978, at the Woodland Hills home of his crew member Don Jonhson. After hours of drinking with his friends, the party was broken up, leaving Kath and Johnson alone. Kath was looking for a little excitement, so he pulled out his pistol and started cleaning it with the safety latch off. Johnson told him to put the gun down, but Kath just laughed and told him to stop being so dramatic. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not loaded, see?”.
To prove to him that there was nothing to be afraid of, Kath showed Johnson his John Wayne impression, pulling the gun from its holster and twirling it on a single finger before putting it to his head and pulling the trigger. What he didn’t realise was that there was still a single bullet in the chamber, a bullet that ripped through Kath’s head, killing him instantly. He was just 31.
Terry Kath left behind a stunning legacy. His fretwork with Chicago landed him a reputation as one of the most technically gifted players on the circuit. Still, his talents are rarely spoken about in the same way that those of Eric Clapton or Jimmy Page. According to Chicago trumpeter Lee Loughnane, it was Kath’s exuberant performance style that convinced the group to move towards long-hair music, ditching their previous image without hesitation.
“We only lasted about six months before Terry came onstage at Barnaby’s on State Street one night and ripped the suit right off of his back,” he said. “And it was t-shirts, jeans and long hair from then on”.
In the late ’60s, Chicago played a few shows with legendary guitarist Jimi Hendrix. Like pretty much everyone who came to see the band perform, Hendrix was mesmerised by Kath’s guitar playing. He even claimed that he thought the Chicago guitarist played six strings better than he did, naming Kath the “best guitarist in the universe.” High praise indeed.
What made Hendrix’s admiration so significant was that he rarely handed out compliments lightly when it came to guitar players. Plenty of musicians could impress audiences with speed or volume, but Hendrix was drawn to originality above all else.
Kath had that same restless quality in his playing, treating the guitar less like a traditional rock instrument and more like a machine capable of producing entirely new sounds. That experimental streak is exactly what separated both players from the countless blues-rock imitators emerging at the end of the 1960s.
Even within Chicago’s brass-heavy arrangements, Kath always managed to cut through with a rawness that felt unpredictable. Songs could move from polished jazz-rock passages into bursts of fuzz-drenched chaos within seconds whenever he took centre stage.
While Chicago would eventually become associated with slick soft-rock ballads in later years, Kath represented the group’s wild heart during their formative era, bringing the same sense of danger and spontaneity that Hendrix himself embodied whenever he picked up a guita
Hendrix was spot on in his estimation of Kath. Just listen to ‘Free Form Guitar’ from Chicago’s 1969 debut, a highly experimental piece that sees Kath transform a piece of wood with six amplified strings into a gargantuan powerhouse of fuzz. Or what about Kath’s solo for ’25 or 6 to 4′, a high-octane slice of angular rock guitar that makes the likes of Clapton and Page look like they’ve only just learned how to play a G major chord. It’s no wonder Hendrix was a fan of Kath’s guitar playing; the pair had a great deal in command, and both used their wah pedals to create extraordinarily complex textures. It’s such a shame that Kath doesn’t get the same level of praise as Stevie Ray Vaughan, Jeff Beck or Duane Allman.
Through his work, it is easy to see how he stands head and shoulders above all his contemporaries for the simple reason that he has this fantastically left-field sensibility that sees him use his guitar as a tool of sonic exploration. Like Hendrix, Kath pushed the guitar to the very limits of its capability. For that, we should be truly grateful.
