B-Side Guys

In the pantheon of rock music, the electric guitar reigns supreme, with keyboards, bass, and drums completing the standard arsenal. Sam Edelston didn’t get that memo—or rather, he read it, crumpled it up, and set it aflame with his three-stringed dulcimer. “Making Waves” isn’t just an album title; it’s a declaration of intent from an artist determined to shatter preconceptions about an instrument typically relegated to Appalachian porches and Renaissance fairs.

The dulcimer—with its diatonic fretboard and minimalist three-string design—seems an unlikely vehicle for rock rebellion. Yet within seconds of the opening track, Edelston establishes a thrilling cognitive dissonance: the familiar shapes of classic rock filtered through an instrument that has no business handling them. The original composition “Looking at the Waves” serves as both introduction and thesis statement, building from gentle arpeggios to full-throated power chords that defy the dulcimer’s folk reputation.

When Edelston tears into the Rolling Stones’ “Wild Horses,” the transformation is complete. His playing technique—a hybrid of strumming, fingerpicking, and percussive attacks—extracts a startling range of timbres from the instrument. The dulcimer’s modal tuning lends the cover an eerily beautiful quality, somewhere between the original’s country-rock sensibility and something altogether more ancient.

The album’s ninth track, “If I Can’t Get to You,” showcases Edelston’s prowess as a songwriter in addition to his interpretive skills. Here, his original composition leverages the dulcimer’s unique harmonic properties to create something that could never exist on guitar. The track builds from contemplative verses into a surprisingly powerful chorus, with Edelston’s melodic sensibilities revealing influences that span decades of rock history while remaining distinctly his own. Unlike the covers surrounding it, this track offers a glimpse of what rock music might have evolved into had the dulcimer, rather than the guitar, become the instrument of choice for early pioneers.

What’s most impressive isn’t that Edelston plays these songs on dulcimer—it’s how he reveals new dimensions within familiar material. Billy Joel’s “She’s Always a Woman” becomes more cutting, the dulcimer’s crystalline tone emphasizing the song’s underlying bite. Paul Simon’s “Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard” transforms into a percussive showcase, with Edelston slapping and tapping the dulcimer’s body while maintaining the melody’s infectious bounce.

The album’s centerpiece arrives with “Bohemian Rhapsody,” a selection that borders on audacious. Queen’s operatic masterpiece seems impossible for a three-stringed instrument with limited chromatic capabilities, yet Edelston navigates its complex sections with remarkable ingenuity. The dulcimer creates a harpsichord-like effect during the ballad sections before erupting into distorted fury for the headbanging climax. It’s both faithful to the source material and entirely reimagined.

Guest contributors provide welcome textural variety. Teddy Parker on Chicago’s “Colour My World” complements the dulcimer’s delicate upper register, while vocal percussionist Chesney Snow adds beatbox elements to “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds,” creating a fascinating bridge between folk tradition and contemporary techniques. But Edelston remains the unquestioned focus, his dulcimer alternately screaming and whispering through each arrangement.

The production wisely avoids excessive processing, allowing the dulcimer’s natural resonance to shine while still embracing amplification and occasional effects. This balance perfectly serves the project’s dual nature: traditional instrument meets contemporary approach. The recorded sound captures both the woody resonance of the dulcimer’s hollow body and the electric bite of its amplified attack.

“Born to Run” emerges as an unexpected highlight, with Edelston crafting a wall of sound from his limited instrumentation that captures Springsteen’s urban romanticism without attempting to mimic the E Street Band’s specific arrangements. The dulcimer’s sustained drone notes create a haunting undercurrent beneath the familiar melody, suggesting an alternate universe where the Boss emerged from the Appalachians rather than New Jersey.

The album concludes with Brandi Carlile’s “You and Me on the Rock” (featuring Parker again) before circling back to a reprise of the opening composition—a fitting structural choice for a project about pushing boundaries while maintaining connection to origins.

“Making Waves” succeeds not just as novelty but as legitimate musical exploration. Edelston has accomplished something remarkable: democratizing classic rock by demonstrating how its essence can be captured on an instrument with half the strings of a guitar and, as he notes, “no mistake notes.” This accessibility message underlies the technical virtuosity on display.

In proving that a mountain dulcimer can credibly rock, Edelston hasn’t just made waves—he’s charted entirely new currents for an ancient instrument to navigate. This album stands as both homage to classic rock’s enduring appeal and compelling evidence that the dulcimer deserves a prominent place in contemporary music’s ongoing evolution.