A Language Made of Strings: An Interview with JON DRETTO

Photographer LESTER VILLARAMA @shotbylester
Stylist SKY JT NAVAL @sky_is_dlimit
Grooming AYAE YAMAMOTO for EXCLUSIVE ARTISTS using TYPOLOGY and ORIBE HAIRCARE @ayaeyamamoto
Photography Assistant NIKKO PANTI @misterbaks
Location SET HUB COLLECTIVE @booksethub

Words by Ryan Simón + Cassidy Cocke

Jon Dretto plays the guitar like he’s telling you something he’s not sure you deserve to hear. Each note is deliberate, shaped by years of discipline, yet charged with something untamed. Even when the stage is stripped bare and the crowd has thinned, that quiet intensity stays with him—visible through a phone screen, tangible in person.

With a career spanning more than two decades—beginning as a child and evolving into Chaka Khan’s lead guitarist—Dretto has honed a signature “voice” through live improvisation, digital innovation, and a deep grounding in music theory. His solo releases, including electrifying singles like “Painkiller” and “MFK,” prove that he can sing with his actual voice too. Still, for Dretto, words are almost unnecessary—his alphabet lives on the fretboard.

We caught up with Dretto to explore the mind and the music behind his artistry. In conversation, he opens up about performing with legends, the balance between playing to an audience and playing to the algorithm, and shaping personal expression through both his fingers and his fashion.

Whether he’s collaborating with Givenchy or reinventing his sound with cutting- edge tech, Dretto’s work is a masterclass in claiming every facet of your craft and making it entirely your own.

When you are in a creative flow, what does your mind feel like? Can you describe it without using musical terms?

For me, being in a creative flow state feels like stepping into a different dimension. Time disappears—not in a fleeting way, but in a way that feels as if there’s never quite enough of it once the right idea strikes. It feels like entering a place with its own atmosphere, gravity, and lighting. It is completely immersive and emotionally charged. There’s a sensation of movement on multiple axes—fast and slow, heavy and light, still and chaotic—all happening at once. It’s euphoric. When I’m performing, especially in moments of improvisation, like taking a solo with Chaka Khan, it feels like I’m screaming who I am to the world without saying a word. That’s the magic of the guitar. And when you’re in sync with a band, when everyone is chasing the same moment, everything is amplified. It becomes less about the individual and more about the collective purpose. It’s about being fully there and doing exactly what you’re meant to do.

Do you identify more as a performer, storyteller, technician—or something else entirely?

I see myself as an entertainer, someone who uses music to pull people out of their everyday world, even if just for a moment. Music is the medium I use to communicate what’s inside, but the connection with the audience is what I value most. It’s the exchange of energy. When playing live, the performance extends far beyond the notes. It’s in the dynamics, the silence, the physicality, the intensity. I love the stage. I love the pressure. I’m a perfectionist, and like most musicians, I’m my own worst critic. But after just finishing over 20 shows as the lead guitarist for Chaka Khan, I feel more connected than ever to the performer within me. Every night was a reminder of how grateful I am to live in this moment—to give, receive, and grow through performance.

You have built a global audience through a phone screen. Do you ever feel like you are playing for the algorithm instead of the audience?
That is something I’ve definitely wrestled with. I’ve been playing guitar for 20 years, and when I started, social media wasn’t even in the picture; I just wanted to play live. But the truth is, the game has changed—and with it came an unprecedented opportunity: we can now reach the entire world from the palm of our hand. Yes, algorithms exist, but at the end of the day, no one will tell your story better than you can. You can’t control how people respond, whether it strikes a chord or not, but you can show up. You can be honest. You have everything to gain by putting yourself out there, and everything to lose if you don’t try.

You have worked with Givenchy and Samsung. How do fashion and tech shape your personal aesthetic as an artist?
Working with high fashion made me hyper-aware of the visual side of artistry. The most iconic artists in history are sometimes recognizable by nothing more than a silhouette or a stance. That speaks volumes about the power of presentation. As for technology, it’s revolutionized how I play the guitar. I used to obsess over analog gear and amp settings, but I was constantly chasing consistency. For the past six years, I’ve used amp modelers, and it’s changed everything. I can dial in exactly what I want, save it, and recreate that same sound every time. It gives me the freedom to walk into an arena with a backpack and still fill the room. That mix of reliability and innovation is something I’ve fully embraced.

Your solo music feels emotionally rich. Is there a wound behind the playing, or is it pure expression?
I think we all carry wounds—and yes, mine show up in the music, consciously or not. But I’d say what you’re hearing is pure expression. My guitar is how I process what I’m experiencing internally. It’s how I translate feelings into something tangible. What’s fascinating about guitar is that, unlike singing, it doesn’t use words, but it still speaks. Through articulation, dynamics, phrasing, and nuance, you can create something deeply vocal. None of that comes from gear; it comes from your hands and your soul.

What is something you believe about music that very few people agree with you on?
Music theory. It can be a polarizing topic. Some swear by it while others resist it. I’m a firm believer that understanding theory unlocks your potential. Before I started studying theory in high school, I could shred, but I couldn’t communicate a musical idea. I couldn’t break down or build up a piece of music beyond instinct. Once I started learning about harmony, rhythm, inversions, and intervals, everything changed. It gave me a musical vocabulary. I eventually earned degrees in both music theory and performance, as well as music business, and I genuinely wouldn’t be the musician I am today without that foundation. One thing I’ve learned, and often share with other players, is that being a great guitar player and being a great musician are not always the same thing. For me, music theory helped bridge that gap.

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