Creativity Quote by Pat Metheny

Metheny’s gripe lands less like gear-nerd nitpicking and more like an aesthetic manifesto: a refusal to let technology paste a fake sheen onto human touch. A “chorus box” is literally designed to sweeten reality, smearing a single guitar line into a glossy pseudo-ensemble. Metheny hears that gloss as a lie - a shortcut that replaces earned complexity (harmonic movement, voicing, dynamics, phrasing) with an off-the-shelf wobble.

The intent is pointed because his whole musical identity is built on clarity: articulate notes, wide-open harmony, and a sense of space that feels lived-in rather than processed. Chorus, especially in its most commercial forms, can blur the attack of the note and flatten the personality of the player. Saying he “hates” it is performative bluntness, a way of drawing a boundary around taste in a world where guitar tone often becomes branding.

The subtext is also a quiet critique of an era. Chorus pedals became a signature of late-70s/80s polish across pop, fusion, and radio rock - a sound associated with mass production and a certain corporate smoothness. Metheny isn’t rejecting experimentation; he’s rejecting the particular kind that substitutes effect for intention. Coming from a musician who’s used plenty of technology when it serves the composition, the line reads as: if the device makes everything sound bigger, it also makes everything sound the same.