Time & Perspective Quote by Lee Ritenour

Ritenour isn’t bragging about a new toy so much as admitting he’s changed the rules of his own studio identity. For a guitarist who’s long thrived in the glossy, precision-engineered world where keyboards often function like architectural support beams, saying “the backing is all guitar oriented” reads like a quiet rebellion against his usual palette. It’s a tonal and cultural pivot: less airbrushed fusion-sheen, more string-forward physicality. Even the syntax gives it away. He starts by giving keyboards their flowers (“great keyboard players”) before pivoting to the real headline: sometimes they’re not there at all. That courtesy is strategic, a musician’s way of signaling this isn’t an anti-keyboard manifesto; it’s an aesthetic choice.

The subtext is about authorship and space. Keyboards can fill a mix effortlessly, smoothing gaps, padding harmony, making everything feel finished. A guitar-oriented backing exposes edges: rhythm has to breathe, chords have to speak, and the guitar’s percussive attack becomes the spine instead of the garnish. It also reframes power dynamics in the band. When keyboards recede, the guitarist isn’t just soloing over a plush bed; he’s shaping the bed.

“This is first time I’ve ever done this actually” lands like a small confession from a veteran. Not reinvention for press release purposes, but a late-career permission slip: after decades of tasteful proficiency, he’s chasing a different kind of clarity - one that leaves room for risk, dryness, and the unglamorous honesty of strings carrying the whole song.