Flame-top guitars were fairly common during the 1970s “copy era,” but few reached the levels of figure we often see on modern high-end guitars. Then came the Electra Endorser X935CS, which set new standards for psychedelic woodgrain. “But it’s not a ’70s guitar,” you object. No, but arguably, the Endorser CS – which was only made in 1983 – was the last great burst of ’70s guitars – and was certainly a harbinger.
The Electra brand was the property of St. Louis Music (S.L.M.), a large distributor founded in 1922 by Bernard Kornblum, primarily as a violin importer that eventually sold guitars. By the mid ’50s, at least, S.L.M. was marketing its own brand of Kay-made archtops under the brand name Custom Kraft. Some Custom Krafts were pretty interesting, including many fine electrics. The Kay-S.L.M. relationship lasted until ’68, when Kay folded.
By the mid ’60s, S.L.M. had begun looking to Japan for product. Perhaps as early as ’66, S.L.M. began to import a few solidbody guitars from Japan carrying the Custom Kraft brand. Circa ’67, S.L.M. introduced its first truly Japanese-made line under the Apollo banner. The first Japanese-made Electra guitar – a copy of the Hagstrom II solidbody – debuted that year.
That the first Electra was a “copy” would prove significant, whether by design or coincidence. In ’69, Ampeg hired Dan Armstrong to develop what would become the Ampeg Dan Armstrong plexiglass “see-through” guitar. It was a hit, and in 1970, S.L.M. began promoting “The Electra” copy of the Ampeg guitar. The brand had finally entered official guitar history!
Like other ’70s copy brands, including Ibanez and Aria, Electra produced its share of bolt-neck Les Paul, Stratocaster, Telecaster, and Fender bass copies, though the perception of enormous quantities being made is probably inflated.
In ’75, S.L.M. hired Tom Presley to manage its design, which initiated an era that ultimately yielded the M.P.C. guitars and the legacy of Crate amplifiers. Also about this time, S.L.M. began producing its own pickups in the U.S., which found an advocate in Paul Yandell, Chet Atkins’ versatile side man.
In any case, bolt-neck Gibson Les Paul copies provided the most margin, so it was natural that Gibson would be first to fight back. In ’77, Norlin – the parent of Gibson – filed suit against Elger Guitars (the American arm of Hoshino Gakki Ten, owner of the Ibanez brand) in the Philadelphia Federal Court over trademark infringement based on copying headstock designs. Nevermind that Ibanez had changed its headstocks the year before. The case was settled out of court, and in ’78, copies – in the U.S. – officially ceased and desisted. Japanese manufacturers introduced a number of new “original” designs, and a new era was on its way.
Here, the story of the Endorser enters guitar history… or, rather, its predecessor, the Ibanez Performer does! The first post-lawsuit Ibanez guitars to come off the line in ’78 were the Performers, built by Fuji Gen Gakki with the new head and a modified Les Paul shape with a little Telecaster curve added to the upper bout neck joint.
The Ibanez Performers lasted only about a year (a couple made it to 1981-’82) and were quickly supplanted by the Musician and Studio lines.
Following the disappearance of the Ibanez PF Series, S.L.M. appropriated an almost-identical body design for guitars made by the legendary Matsumoku factory. In 1980, it introduced a modified Les Paul design with a little Tele-style curve on the upper-bout neck joint. During the “lawsuit” debacle, S.L.M. had changed its headstocks from the Gibson-style open-book to a kind of French-curve wave-style. Initially, there were quite a few variations on the design, differentiated by body materials, finishes, electronics, and neck joints, with names such as Vulcan, Ultima, Phoenix, Invicta, and Powered EQ. All had glued-in necks, some with a prominent heel, others with a scooped out “heel-less” design.
In 1981, two more models debuted – a low-end bolt-neck Workingman and the higher-end Endorser. The Endorser X935 had the heel-less neck joint and an opaque finish. In ’83, it was joined by the Endorser X935CS like this month’s subject.
A deluxe guitar all the way, the X935CS’s body was two-piece solid mahogany, its neck three-piece maple. They had an interesting construction element collectors refer to as “bayonet,” where the body extended to the heel (or rather, the heel-less area) about three inches, where the maple neck is joined via a “bayonet” extension into the body. The bound fingerboard was ebony, made even classier by the mini dot inlays. Then there was the bound/carved/bookmatched-maple cap, with a dizzying degree of flame!
But, as we know, a guitar has to have more than a pretty face. The Endorser is powered by two very hot humbuckers designed and produced in America, loud, with a wide-open response across all frequencies. What’s more, the tone controls are push/pull. The top Tone knob has a coil tap that converts both humbuckers to single-coils, while the lower one is a phase switch that selects either out-of-phase humbuckers or single-coils, depending on the mode. All this is combined with smooth capacitors on the tone circuits that roll off highs without losing output or getting “thud.” It’s a remarkably elegant and flexible system.
It’s interesting to compare Fuji’s Ibanez Performers to Matsumoku’s Electra Endorsers, the former giving off a vintage “Les Paul vibe,” the latter feeling much more contemporary.
The Electra Endorser X935CS was available for only one year. It was still on the January 1, 1984, price list ($549), but most date to ’83. Some sources say only about 400 were produced, which is probably close. You can date Matsumoku Electras via the serial number, which begins with the date; the one you see here is 3094772.
A descendent of the copy era, Electra Endorsers really mark the culmination of ’70s-style guitarmaking. In ’84, S.L.M. began a transition to the Electra-Westone, then simply Westone, brand names, and with it, moved toward pointy heavy metal guitars. Flamey tops were no longer in fashion. Though you wouldn’t have wanted to tell that to a young luthier just starting out about that time. His name was Paul Reed Smith…
This article originally appeared in VG’s February 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
