Month: June 2001

The Paul Reed Smith bass was introduced at the January ’96 NAMM show.

Set-neck and bolt-on (CE model) models were offered, with mahogany bodies and one-piece mahogany necks. On Bass and Curly Bass models, a maple-capped body was included, and the Curly models had transparent finishes. Figured-top bass bodies typically had a 1/4″ maple cap. Options included a 10 top at an additional $100 retail, and bird fingerboard inlays at an additional $200. The standard Bass model wore an opaque finish, and a few were made with maple fingerboards. The necks had 22 frets, except for the fretless models, which were, in fact, void of any frets whatsoever.

The electronics setup was very Alembic-esque in that the PRS bass husk housed single-coil pickups with a vari-tone and hum-canceling dummy coil.

The PRS electronics consisted of three single-coil pickups, a dummy coil on the rear of the body, a master volume, a five-position vari-tone knob, bass pot (labeled “deep”) and a treble knob (aptly dubbed “clear”). These basses were pretty dark and bottomy, but were also versatile in that you could select the combined tones of all the pickups or touch on the sounds generated from the pickups in the different positions on the body.

Production of these basses reportedly lasted from ’86 through ’89, and about 2,000 units were sold. Famous users included Allen Woody, from the Allman Brothers Band, and of course Robbie Shakespear, of just about anything quality being done in reggae at that time. Some of the complaints were about the tight string spacing on the five-string models up to mid ’89. Another major complaint was the pickup placement close to the neck. Slappers don’t like the feel of plastic under their thumbs! I say if there is a will there is a way, and if you are good enough, you can make due on a turd with decent action height, but why put yourself through the heartbreak of discomfort if you can take a vacation on a bass of your choice.

PRS basses are gaining popularity amongst collectors of small-production pieces, but who knows what the future will bring for their appreciation in the future collectible market? These basses are comfortable to wear, nice to play, and have a cool tone coloration palette, so it’s not like the wall hangers that look cool but never have a place on the stage or even in the hands of an amateur musician/collector. Go to a local guitar show or check one of these puppies out at a dealer/purveyor of all that is warm and fuzzy in the new, used, and vintage bass market. It may just float your boat and prompt good feelings in your pins.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Jun. ’98 issue.

You may have one in your pocket. They only cost about 25 cents. But if you have always used one to play guitar, you are lost if you don’t have one. They are picks! Skinny little bits of celluloid, plastic, nylon, or any of a hundred other substances. There really isn’t anything special about picks except that you probably use one every day.

Picks finally got some respect back in 1995, with the Miller Freeman publication of the book Picks!, by Will Hoover. It’s a cute book, and it’s informative in an area where little knowledge had previously been gathered.

“Picks are fun,” says Hoover. “Fun is the word.”
Indeed it is, ask anyone who collects them. The hobby of pick collecting got a real shot in the arm when the Hoover book was released, because there was finally a written reference work that created a common language.

Why collect picks? “Why not?” say collectors. Picks have attributes that make them collectible. There are endless varieties, lots of vintage makes, and your favorite guitar player probably uses one. Wouldn’t it be nice to own one of his (or her) picks? They don’t take up much space, a ready trader market exists to meet your needs, and vintage picks are cool case accessories for your old guitar. We talked to some pick collectors to find out what inspires them.

“I really like the vintage picks,” says Chris Gaylord, a South Carolinian who has collected picks for 18 years. Gaylord has acquired a well-deserved reputation as a plectrologist. His interest in and knowledge of vintage picks has spread beyond the picks themselves and into pick display items such as cards, boxes, and pouches from the vintage era.

“My collection is broad and showcases picks made by several companies, starting with D’Andrea in the 1920s, to Gibson in the ’30s and ’40s, to the Herco and Fender picks of the ’50s, along with a lot of forgotten names like Coast, H&F, and Wabash.

“I have many discontinued sizes and shapes represented in an array of colors and materials such as ivory, tortoiseshell, glass, stone, horn, metal, leather, and celluloid.”

Harry Anderson has many vintage picks, but takes a different approach to collecting. Beginning in the mid ’80s, Anderson began collecting picks with store logos on them. Now his collection contains picks from 49 states (only Idaho isn’t represented).

“I like to describe mine as a general collection” he says.

Over the years, I’ve tried to include instruments in this column that were functional and affordable. Occasionally, we’ve lucked out and found spectacular instruments that offer more than your money’s worth. Some of my personal favorites from the past include the Mesa/Boogie Mark III amp, Kramer Pacer guitar and the Gibson L6S.

This month’s entry is a guitar I can no longer ignore. The Martin D-1 is my favorite new acoustic, and yet I see them priced new for $700 or less across the nation. I’ve started seeing them used in the $600 range, and for what you get in return, this may just be the best bargain I’ve ever written about in this column.

Martin guitars need little introduction. In 1833, Christian Frederick Martin left 19th-century Germany and relocated in the hills of eastern Pennsylvania. Through the years, the company has made dozens of models, almost completely handmade, and hammered out a reputation that business people in any industry could only envy. The D-1 is a new guitar, which first appeared on the scene at the Winter NAMM show in 1993. With a list price of $995, the folks in Nazareth were doing their best to produce a quality made-in-America acoustic deserving of the “since 1833” moniker. As the current catalog illuminates, “Martin opted to utilize a two-piece solid mahogany back, coupled with veneered mahogany sides. The three-ply sides provide an extraordinary dimensional stability.”

Cosmetically, it’s hard to tell the sides are not solid wood.

“Perhaps the most radical departure from most typical Martin guitar construction is the redesign of the top bracing pattern and neck-to-body joint area,” the catalog continues. “Unique A-frame braces tie directly into a laminated alder neck block, adding support to the soundhole area. The neck incorporates a buttress extension designed specially to support the fingerboard.”

Gibson pioneered the concept in 1960, with the Johnny Smith jazz guitar. The idea is to have more wood beneath where the fingerboard joins the top. Smith reasoned this would give better sustain and fewer dead spots above the 12th fret. While the D-1 isn’t a cutaway guitar, it does add clarity to upper-register notes. I also suspect this diminishes the chances of the fingerboard pulling away from the top. Martin also stresses that “the X brace has been modified to a full square overlap, and a unique, angled maple bridge plate minimizes failure of this high-stress component.”

Thus, the different construction techniques are designed to improve an already excellent design many players argue can’t be improved upon.

Visually, this isn’t the typical Martin finish. The white spruce top, made famous on dreadnoughts and concert 00 series guitars, is missing, along with the shiny glossed rosewood back and sides. The D-1 looks like a Gibson LG-0 made in Nazareth and sized like a D-18. With the cost of a new D-18 over $2,000 (list), Martin wisely decided to opt for a less expensive finish and still use quality materials. The D-1 looks like it’s made totally from mahogany wood and finished with a paper-thin coat of lacquer sealer. In fact, Martin says the D-1 uses “a special cross link finish… extremely thin, to optimize tone.” The typical dreadnought features apply – 20 frets on an 251/2″ scale, 14 frets clear of the body, etc. The fretwork is nice, with somewhat larger frets than the typical Martin. Tuners are chrome-plated affairs that look suspiciously like Schallers without really saying so. In my experience, they are the weakest part of the guitar. While many will find they work satisfactorily, they are also the easiest part to replace.

We’ve looked at the cosmetics and the materials, but how does the D-1 sound?

To my ears, fantastic! In the past two years, two students have bought these guitars and they both have special stuff I didn’t expect to find in a newer acoustic. I think of the D-1 as almost two separate guitars – a great fingerstyle instrument and a very good bluegrass “battleship.” Unlike most every D-series Martins I’ve played, the D-1 responds to every little nuance, whether played with fingers or fingerpicks. It seems lighter than other acoustics I’ve played, but the D-1 is probably my favorite fingerpicking dreadnought. If you need more guts, grab a flatpick and it’s all there.

To be fair, the D-1 doesn’t have the bluegrass festival volume of a good D-28 or even an average D-18. However, it doesn’t cost anywhere near as much, and to me, the D-1 is more versatile. Most studio players don’t record fingerstyle parts with a dreadnought. This guitar is perhaps the only Martin D size you could do it with and still sound convincing. Maybe the top bracing, thinner finish or combination of woods is responsible; whatever does it, the D-1 works.

I don’t think Martin should drop its other guitars and just make the D-1. I don’t care for its appearance, only because I prefer the white spruce top on the other D-series guitars. Many of you will find the mahogany finish attractive. I also don’t care for the tuners, but I’ve already said this can be remedied easily, and if Martin had to cut any corners, this is without question the place to do it. But these quibbles are picayune, and the D-1 is one of my favorite new guitars, regardless of price.

The best thing about this guitar is its consistency. Phil Jones, in North Carolina, and John Jegen, in Texas, both have D-1s I’ve played extensively, and both instruments amaze me. This is hard to do with any instrument, but even more so with a flat-top acoustic. If you’re looking for a new, American-made acoustic with real tone and magic, snap up a D-1 before Martin wises up and raises the price $500 or so. You might find these guitars on sale new for around $700, or call one of our VG dealers and tell ’em Riley sent you. Happy hunting, amigos!

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Special thanks to Phil Jones and John Jegen for the use of their guitars and Michael Havens at Brook Mays music for research for this review.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Aug. ’97 issue.

The history of the musical instrument business is full of stories, from the drab to the miraculous. Some bean-counters will busily push their way to the forefront, grabbing for a piece of history, while others quietly create. Seth Lover peers out at me from the doorway of his humble Southern California ranch house looking for all the world like an elf dressed in worn work clothes. Welcoming me inside as if he’d known me all his life, I enter a home that is rooted as firmly in the past as in the present. The charming Mrs. Lover joined us for our afternoon together, occasionally chiming in from time to time. Electronics manuals and instruments are in every corner, and the inner sanctum, Seth’s crowded two-car garage, is a wonderland of old inventions never marketed, examples of his prodigious career spanning five decades, and enough parts inventory to start a musical instrument company.

A noted creator

One day in early June, 1963, I was sitting in the outer office of a deserted (maybe deserted isn’t the right word; it was an almost-empty building waiting to be filled) assembly plant in Fullerton, California, after being tipped about the development of an acoustic division of Fender Guitars. I took it as a sign, so I filled out an employment application at the “plant” and sat down, awaiting a job interview with Roger Rossmeisl.

In the silence of the building, I began to ponder my life and how I’d arrived in that position.

When I was young – 12 or 13 years old – I found an old, handmade acoustic guitar in my grandfather’s closet. It seemed funny no one in my family except me had any interest in it. I felt an amazing fascination and mysterious connection. Even at that early age, I felt my life pivot around that instrument. My grandfather gave it to me, and I still have that old guitar.

Through childhood, I had a fortunate but average life. I enjoyed insects, art, building models, drawing, and swimming. My father’s adept abilities at mechanics were among his many gifts to me. When I was eight, we moved from Michigan to California, for my father’s health. He knew his time was limited and made the most of the lessons he taught me.

He revealed the benefits of a logical approach and patience. He taught perseverance and patience. I discovered that, much like my dad, I enjoyed long-term, complex projects. My father died when he was 46. I was 18.

Early in high school, I discovered Andres Segovia and started collecting all his albums. I thought rock and roll was great, but Segovia and classical guitar was very important to me. The parents of a friend knew about my interests, and introduced me to Ernie Drumheller, who had a production workshop. His hobby was making classical guitars, and he became a new focus of my life.

Ernie took me under his wing and I started making my first guitar. It was a classical and he had me make it in the Antonio Torres tradition. Ernie encouraged me and I could feel his enjoyment teaching me his skills. I could only spend Saturdays and summers working on guitars, so progress was slow. But slow as it was, by 1961 I was proud of my accomplishments and had made six guitars in three years. I made them one at a time and each was better than the last. I even traded one for a 1931 Chevy I owned for over 20 years.

After graduating from high school, I enrolled at Fullerton Junior College and studied engineering for two years. F.J.C. was located, with the all determination of fate, a convenient two miles from Fender Guitar company’s assembly plant on Raymond Ave.

One day in 1963, I went to the plant and asked for a tour, and to my surprise got one. The facility was made up of nine buildings, side by side, all the same size.

The tour set my blood on fire. Strats and Teles were being manufactured production-style. I saw the neck and body production areas, final assembly. The air was filled with the sounds of electric guitars being tested.

I mentioned to the guide, Babe Simoni, that I made acoustic guitars and he told me of Fender’s plans for an acoustic division. It was in its development stages and located nearby on Missile Way. He suggested I apply for a job.

Not long after, I was sitting in the front lobby of the soon-to-be-acoustic division waiting for a reply to my employment application. I brought my most recent classical guitars to show my skills and interest in guitarmaking. I did not wait long before Roger Rossmeisl emerged, with my application in hand.

Roger was a husky, confident individual with a heavy German accent. We talked for a minute and retired to his office to look at my guitar. While Roger looked over my handiwork, I noticed a diploma on the wall naming Roger as “Gitarrenbaumeister.” It was a “master guitarmaker” degree with accompanying teaching credentials he earned in eight years at a school in Mittenwald, Germany. Down the road, I would benefit greatly from those credentials.

Roger was very gracious as he examined my guitar, then gave me another tour. The beautiful aroma of Brazilian rosewood swept through me and I knew I would be working there. There was no one in the building of approximately 12,000 square feet, just stacks of Brazilian rosewood, mahogany and spruce. Some of the machinery was in place.

Roger was designing and tooling up to make the King and the Concert Fender Acoustic guitar models. He also said he would not be hiring for six months. He then showed me some rosewood backs and sides. Pulling out a set, he handed them to me, and said, “Go now, and make a guitar.” I was astonished and gratefully accepted the rosewood before we said goodbye.

For the next six months, my top priority was making the best classical guitar I could, to impress Roger. I felt myself enter a new level of awareness toward craftsmanship, and by December, 1963, I’d finished the guitar and was on my way to see Roger.

We had a strong reunion. He got a kick out of the guitar and complimented me on my effort. He again invited me for a look at the factory, which had been transformed into a full-production facility. A huge bandsaw for re-sawing lumber into tops and backs, a ferris wheel-like gluing machine for tops and backs, a widebelt sander, upright routers, finish department, all an amazing sight.

Finally, Roger spoke the exact words I wanted to hear. “Do you want to work here?”

My response was as you’d expect.

“We will start in January,” he said, and on January 27, 1964, he called for my first day of work.

I worked for and around Roger for the next nine years and I was with him on his last day at Fender. Stories about Germany and his youth, his nine years at Rickenbacker, while making acoustic, jazz, and special projects for the likes of Jimi Hendrix and George Harrison. I had no idea what great things lay ahead.

But for the time being, the great thing was simply making the first Fender acoustic guitars.

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This article originally appeared in the November ’97 issue of Vintage Guitar. Phil Kubicki passed away in March of 2013 (www.vintageguitar.com/13587/renowned-guitar-builder-phil-kubicki-passes/)

The idea for this article came about when I purchased a box of effects pedals from the owner of a music store which had closed in the late seventies. Most were new old stock Electro-Harmonix with a few other brands mixed in. I spent several hours deciding which I found useful and thought others might profit from the information. This is a totally subjective evaluation, and I’m sure my opinions wouldn’t be of value to a metal player or others of that ilk. I play and write blues, regae, R&B, and classic rock. I have searched diligently through the years for the Duane Allman, Dickey Betts type guitar sound. The violin type sustain of a Les Paul has always inspired me, and I’ve played a 1959 Les Paul flame top for most of my guitar playing career. After playing through at least 50 different amps the last two years I arrived at the ever popular 1956 Fender Bassman. Mine has reconed Jensen P-10R’s, is outfitted with a matched set of NOS Tungsol 5881’s, and after using all RCA 12AX7’s, I went to the original Bassman configuration of 2 12AY7’s so as not to overdrive the power tubes so much. This amp is a dual rectifier amp and sounds delicious at all volumes with all types of guitars. I go into detail here as this amp was my tone base for all testing.

Another point I want to mention here is many acts I’ve heard and admired over the years were playing in large venues, football stadiums, large auditoriums, etc., allowing the guitar players to overdrive their amps with no worry about blowing the audience through the back wall. Those of us working in smaller venues, clubs etc., have a different problem to deal with. Achieving a singing sustain and fat tone in a small rehearsal space or a club is a different animal entirely. I usually don’t run my amp over three or four in these situations, and mic it when playing larger venues. My amp only puts out 40 watts or less and is sufficient for most playing situations.

Since writing the above preamble several months ago some things have changed. First, I purchased a 1966 Fender Vibrolux reverb. It is equipped with Sovtek 5881’s and puts out about 35 watts. Although it doesn’t sound as good as my Bassman, it’s quite portable to take to jam sessions and when sitting in at a club. It, of course, has built-in reverb and is easy to carry and set up quickly. It also has Jensen speakers and, other than the reverb, doesn’t significantly alter the sound of the various effects tested when I A/B the effects between the two amps.

The other thing is, with a little help from my friends, and a lot of looking on my part, this article has gone from covering some dozen effects to covering dozens of effects. My initial research has led me to fellow players saying, “Hey, if you like the MXR Distortion Plus, try the ProCo Rat,” etc. Presently I have three large drawers filled with various effects, seven Wah-Wah pedals, several very interesting articles dealing with the above, and apparently an endless chore! I’ve come to realize I couldn’t possibly review the multitude of effects gizmos gushing forth from the mid 60s to the onslaught of digital signal processing. I am going to cover as much ground as possible, and it is for that reason this article will be two or more parts.

I conclude this introduction by saying I have switched back to all analog effects, and I feel I’m getting a much warmer and more musical tone from my guitar and amp by doing so. Granted there is a trade-off in convenience. Rack mounted gear is faster to hook up at the gig, and midi makes programming digital effects easy and versatile; ie. a different reverb for each effect, fifty different chorus types, etc. I use straight guitar with reverb for 85% of my playing, controlling overdrive with my guitar volume knob. As for the other 15%, I just want one excellent chorus sound, or one ideal Wah-Wah, not fifty mediocre digitally synthesized ones. I don’t want guitar tone like the guitar player I hear on every beer commercial!

The Wah-Wah Pedal
The preceding having been established, it is only fitting that part one of my article deals with the Wah Wah. In the early seventies my primary effects were a CryBaby Wah, a MXR Distortion Plus, and a MXR Phase 90 (both script logo models). Interesting to note here, my Phase 90 stopped working during a recording session at The Record Plant in Sausalito. I sent a roadie out to buy me a new one, which turned out to be a block logo model. The difference in timbre was so great I ended up omitting the effect on the cut we were working on. It wasn’t until a few years ago I found out about the difference between the script and block logo MXR products, but more on that in part two. The CryBaby was the most common Wah of its day and, as I recall, it was quite adequate, I’m sure I wouldn’t have kept using it if I found its quality inferior. It employed the infamous TDK 5130 inductor. I know that for a fact because I still own it and I checked. I made the Wah-Wah part one of my article because next to straight guitar tone Wah was the effect I used the most.

History
It is outside the scope of this article to deal too thoroughly with history as the author’s intent is to help fellow players find the most useful instrument (Wah) for their purposes.

The first wah type sounds were obtained by pioneer electric guitarists working the tone knob, a technique still used today, especially by country players playing Teles. Circa the mid 1960s Vox came up with the first commercially successful unit. This first model was named the “Clyde McCoy” model after a trumpet player who asked Vox for a device to make a keyboard sound like a muted trumpet.

The Clyde models are the most sought after by collectors with early models having his picture on the bottom and later models only a signature. They were manufactured in Italy and sold by Thomas Organ in the U.S. The sound caught on with great success and songs of the late sixties and seventies are permeated with wah-wah.

The following has been quoted from an article in the May 1992 issue of Guitar Player entitled “Wah: The Pedal That Wouldn’t Die”, by Art Thompson. I highly recommend this article for more on the subject of wahs. However, I would like to take issue with a couple points mentioned concerning Vox wahs:

“The introduction of the Vox Crybaby pedal around 1968 came about because the U.S. distributor, Thomas Organ, and the European distributor, JMI, both wanted to sell the Wah-Wah but neither wanted the other to have the same pedal. Vox solved this by slapping the Crybaby name on the same model for the American market. The story goes that when Vox needed a new name for the pedal, they asked one of their distributors to describe the wah’s sound. The response was ‘it sounds like a baby crying.’ Also at this time, Vox and Thomas Organ introduced a new model designated V846 that used a Japanese inductor made by TDK instead of the Italian made inductor. Most purists agree that this change degraded the sound of these pedals, but in the informal test we conducted, our favorite (because of its almost human vocal quality and vomiting sounds) was an excellent sounding V 846…

“The next major change occurred when Vox came out with the King Wah, the first unit made completely in the United States. Vox also tried different variations on the wah theme, such as the bass wah and the fuzz wah. It should also be noted that by the late ’60s there were probably 40 or 50 different manufactures making wah-wah pedals on both sides of the Atlantic…..

“Most pedal gurus consider the Clyde series to be rather thin and cheesy-sounding when compared to later models.”

At this juncture I’d like to introduce Mr. Geoffrey Teese. I was introduced to Geoffrey by my close friend, George Cole, a professional player/teacher in the L.A. area. George told me that Geoffrey had modified his ’70s CryBaby to old Vox standards and it sounded remarkably better. I called Geoffrey and since then we have become friends via many telephone conversations. Geoffrey is the “authorized vintage Vox wah repairman”, and has done more research and has more information on vintage wahs than anyone I know! Geoffrey has been invaluable in the preparation of this part of my article, and I thank him.

Geoffrey modified my ’70s CryBaby to “Clyde McCoy” standards and I agree with George, the mod made all the difference. I thought the CryBaby was pretty good until I heard the difference in timbre and tonal sweep after Geoffrey reworked it. I introduce Geoffrey here because I agree with what he had to say regarding the last part of the Guitar Player article quoted above.

“The GP article says pedal gurus consider the Clydes to be ‘rather thin and cheesy-sounding when compared to later models.’ I disagree! The TDK 5103 square inductor had ‘almost human vocal quality and vomiting sounds.’ Again I disagree! The Vox/USA V846 changed much more than just the inductor. Everything but the very basic resistors were changed, making the V846/King-Vox Wah/Crybaby virtually an entirely new pedal (lumped together because they all shared circuitry, layout, and componentry). If Clydes are ‘thin and cheesy sounding’ then why are they commanding such a high price tag?”

The issue here isn’t one of being right or wrong! The sound one likes is a very subjective animal. I personally agree with Geoffrey about the wah sound being much better before the TDK inductor. I also don’t have much use for a “vomiting sound” when I’m playing, but others may have. Another gray area is the naming of the Vox verses Crybaby name used for U.S. distribution. One pedal I tested was a Vox Crybaby made in Italy. This doesn’t fit in with the Thomas ‘Crybaby name theory’ mentioned above. Also, I’ve had trouble dating the exact years of issue of the Clyde McCoy. If the GP article is accurate, the Vox Wah was manufactured in 1966. The Vox V846 replaced the Clyde in April, 1967. This apparently leaves one short year for the picture and signature model Clydes to have been on the market. Thomas Organ signed distribution rights with Tom Jennings (Vox), in 1964. The original inductor used in these early pedals (the 80-5048-7 discussed later) was taken off microfilm as being created on 4/22/63. This makes the author wonder if the inception date of the wah might not be earlier than 1966?

Inductors
What an inductor is and does may be found in a basic electronics book. However, a layman’s definition is in order as the inductor and caps play such an instrumental role in the overall qualities of the wah. Mr. Teese supplied me with the following explanation: “An inductor is a type of coil that influences the amount of time it takes a signal to go from one point to another.”

I have seen four variations of inductors in the pedals I’ve tried for this section on wahs. The first, in my Italian Vox V846, looks like a small version of the old aluminum film canisters and has ‘500’ ink stamped on the top. This is generally referred to as the “canister” type inductor. The second looks like a stack of three or four dimes covered with a dark reddish brown material. The original Jennings Musical Instrument (Vox) part number was 09-5905-0. Thomas Organ changed this part number to 80-5048-7 in order to conform to their numbering system. This is the inductor Geoffrey refers to as the “48”. The third is the infamous TDK 5103, a brown cube manufactured in Japan. It’s interesting to note here that pedals manufactured in Sepelvuda, Ca. used the TDK 5103 while pedals manufactured in the Midwest during this same time period retained the “48” style inductor.

The last was a unique find. A month ago I bought a Wah Baby made in Italy. I called Geoffrey because I’d never seen an inductor like it. The inductor was mounted perpendicular to the circuit board and was bright red. I was describing it to Geoffrey when I grabbed my reading glasses to tell him what it said on the back. It said FASEL! Too hip! I was jazzed. All the inductors except the Fasel were mounted flush on the circuit board. Geoffrey contends that though they have different casings, these inductors are all the same. The only major difference is the TDK 5103.

I want to mention that the tone of your individual wah may be adjusted to your personal taste by simply pulling back the rubber retaining loop, which applies pressure to the shaft, and rotating the pot to change where the shaft engages the pot. This will change the tone range emphasized by the pot

The agrarian area of California that includes such cities as Bakersfield and Tulare has a special significance to country music lovers and guitar lovers alike. The musical mystique, of course, involves legendary players such as Merle Haggard and Buck Owens, among others, while most of the guitar brands made in the Golden State’s agricultural belt have been on the periphery of interest in classic American-made instruments, possibly because many of them were flashes-in-the-pan. Most guitar aficionados are aware of the Mosrite connection to Bakersfield, but other now-defunct brands, such as Hallmark, Standel, and others, seem relegated to an almost “ghost-like also-ran” status, and those brands were also built in Bakersfield or the surrounding area.

Not only did Bill Gruggett work for Mosrite on more than one occasion, he also built Hallmark instruments during that brand’s brief existence, and he’s even built his own brand of instruments on more than one occasion (and such is the case today). Gruggett’s past self-named guitars included the unique “Stradette” from the late ’60s, and when he sat down with VG at a recent guitar show, he discussed his decades of work in an area (geographical and historical) that is still of interest to fretted instrument fanatics.

Bill Gruggett was born in Tulare, California. His childhood had a great deal of itineration, Gruggett says. His father was a minister who specialized in starting new churches and helping those in need. Ultimately, his family returned to Tulare, where Gruggett graduated from high school. A few years later he moved to Bakersfield, and began working as an auto mechanic. Around the same time, he began picking up used guitars, mandolins, and violins at local yard sales and garage sales, to restore and sell.

“The first instrument I fixed up was a little mandolin-banjo”, says Gruggett. “I painted it Candy Apple Red.”

The auto mechanic soon began building his own guitars. Initial customers included fellow employees at his auto shop.

“I began to accumulate tools, and built guitars in my garage at night, after work hours,” he said. “After two years at the auto shop, I quit, and concentrated on building guitars fulltime. My first guitars were sold to local musicians playing in clubs throughout the valley. I also put my instruments on consignment in music stores as far away as Fresno.”

The time spent by Gruggett in developing his own guitars was considerable, and was a contributing factor to the dissolution of his first marriage. Gruggett’s aspirations went into a tailspin, but then he hooked up with another Bakersfield builder.

“I knew Semie Moseley was working in a tin barn out in the country, on Panama Lane. He was working by himself, like I was, so I started working for him in 1962,” said Gruggett. “The first Ventures guitars were made there. The orders started coming in to the point that Semie called his brother, Andy, in Tennessee to help with the company; Andy was to be Vice-President. We hired help, and Semie also hired several men from prison who needed a job to gain parole. Eventually, the tin barn became too small, and we moved to a larger facility on P Street, in downtown Bakersfield.”

Gruggett’s primary duty during the first year at the P Street factory was to paint all of the instruments, which involved long hours until he was able to train two associates. He states that he was ultimately in charge of the paint, wet sanding, neck dressing, and buffing sections, as well as assembly and checkout.

“Later, we initiated a custom department that I was also in charge of,” he noted. “I worked for four years without a vacation.”

Once Gruggett did take a well-earned 3-week paid vacation, however, trouble was in the cards when he returned.

“Semie had bought out the Dobro company, and they had to hire Mr. Dopyera and a sidekick of his for one year,” Gruggett says. “So they made Mr. Dopyera the maintenance manager, and they gave his sidekick one of my departments, but he would come into the departments that I had left and try to boss my supervisors around. This wasn’t working out, so I began looking for another job.”

According to Gruggett, another employee, Don Stanley (foreman of Mosrite’s woodworking department), had gone to work for a new company called Hallmark, in Arvin, California, in 1955. Joe Hall’s fledgling organization then approached Gruggett two months later, and he went to work for Hallmark as the company’s production manager. “We didn’t make a lot of guitars; I would estimate that we’d built approximately 40 before the money ran out,” he said. The short-lived Hallmark debacle motivated Bill Gruggett to begin making his own instruments once again.

“The All New Stradette Model Guitar” was introduced by the Gruggett Manufacturing Company in 1967 (one circular from those days included the phrase “For the Mod Generation”). Gruggett Stradettes probably have a particular place in the pantheon of vintage guitars due to their unique style. The builder advises he was trying to come up with an instrument that incorporated a classical, violin-like shape with a modern, double-cutaway electric guitar shape. The hybrid aesthetics of Stradettes are probably their more endearing features, and while Mr. Gruggett said he originally set out to make only basses, the lineup ultimately included 6-string guitars, 12-string guitars, and doubleneck models.

One doubleneck model was particularly unusual. The D-126’s 12-string neck had a shorter scale than the instrument’s 6-string neck. “I cut off the first two frets,” said Gruggett. “It sounded brighter.”

Sharp-eyed guitar lovers may also note that some of the hardware on Stradette models may look familiar. According to Gruggett, a local metalworking company, Metaltec, had been supplying the Mosrite company with parts, such as bridges. And when Semie Moseley opted to change suppliers, Gruggett bought some of the remaining parts from the Bakersfield company (which is still in business, by the way). Moreover, the vibratos on some Stradettes were originally Standel parts. When that particular builder went out of business, Gruggett bought some of their parts at a bankruptcy auction. He replaced the snake-like Standel logo on the vibrato’s tailpieces with his own logo.

Gruggett avers that he built his first 40 instruments in his garage, then moved to downtown Bakersfield and hired four employees. He says that approximately 300 guitars were partially built, but only around 120 instruments were completed in 1968. He also built some Epcore-brand guitars during this time, such instruments were styled like Gibson ES-335s.

In 1969, Gruggett’s father became ill, and turned responsibility for his pipe and cable business over to his son. Bill Gruggett’s guitar business was put on hold, and he closed his shop. He ran his father’s business until the elder Gruggett passed away in 1974, after which he began doing repair work for Bakersfield-area music stores and musicians.

In 1976, Semie Moseley returned to Bakersfield, and hired Gruggett to manage his shop.

“We were building Ventures models for Hollywood Music of Hollywood, California,” said Gruggett. “And we also built the Brass Rail models.” Those particular Mosrites featured an exposed brass rail down the middle of the fretboard. This second association with Moseley only lasted six months.

So Bill Gruggett returned to making his self-monikered instruments, including his own brass rail models. He also did repairs and restorations for area customers and stores.

And Mr. Gruggett’s still at it. He’s built guitars with brass rails running through the entire neck and body, and he likes using highly-figured woods in his lutherie. Since he makes instruments one at a time, it’s fair to say that his work is almost always made-to-order, although some retailers such as Fuller’s Vintage Guitars, Houston, are displaying his wares. Gruggett states his instruments all have hand-carved tops and set necks; he’s also been using the same headstock style for quite some time.

Another intriguing aesthetic amenity on Gruggett instruments are wood-covered pickups. Veneers are hand-sanded to the thickness of a sheet of paper, so plenty of signal gets through. One guitar with this feature had pickup covers and pickup rings made from gorgeous birdseye maple.

So Bill Gruggett is still active, producing high-quality instruments on a custom-made basis. Some years ago, he remarried, and his wife Carolyne is an accountant. He describes her as “…a person who understands the ups and downs of a business, and who is supportive of my craft.”

Obviously, Bill Gruggett has been through some ups and downs himself, but he’s been associated with some historically-important American guitar brands, and it’s probably appropriate to opine Bill Gruggett should be considered historically important in his own right.

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Bill Gruggett with one of his current insturments.

This article originally appeared in VG‘s Feb. ’97 issue.

It was 1983, and Gibson was in the throes of its darkest days. Norlin Industries, Gibson’s parent company at the time, had incurred excessive debt, sales had fallen 30 percent the year before, and the Gibson name was for sale. By that summer, all of the large runs of Gibson models, including the Les Paul, had been moved to the Nashville factory, and the plant manager in Kalamazoo was informed the plant would close.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, an idea was borne for a limited run of Les Pauls dubbed the Spotlight Special. Consumer interest in the model was certainly never rampant, but the 1993 release of the Tony Bacon/Paul Day book, The Gibson Les Paul Book, raised eyebrows and the interest of a handful of collectors. Those who set out to buy (or collect) Spotlight Specials soon discovered just how limited their production was, and searching for facts regarding the model often led to erroneous specifications and misinformation.

Granted, the history surrounding the Spotlight is sketchy. Bacon and Paul Day report that Nashville managers concocted the Spotlight Special after spotting leftover walnut and pieces of curly maple. Some collectors believed their Spotlights were produced at Kalamazoo, and refuted the notion that the Spotlight was an assemblage of leftover parts, preferring to believe it was a carefully planned model. Jeff Cease, a Gibson employee who helped research this article, spoke to an employee who worked at the Nashville plant at the time. The source confirmed that Spotlights were indeed built in the Nashville plant and, despite their Custom Shop Edition decal, were not affiliated with the Custom Shop, but were built on the regular production line. The source also said there weren’t many made, and they were most likely built of surplus parts. Walter Carter, former historian for Gibson, notes that Gibson’s records indicate Spotlight Special serial numbers up to 211, so it was indeed a limited edition.

The Spotlight Special is instantly recognizable by the contrasting strip of walnut down the center of the body, with curly maple or quilted maple on both sides of the strip. It has a gold Custom Shop logo on the rear of the headstock, with an inked serial number of 83-XXX, with “XXX” ranging from 001 to 211.

Again, published information is conflicting and inaccurate. The Bacon/Day book describes the headstock veneer as rosewood, when in fact it is mahogany on one model, ebony on the other. In its reference listing, the Bacon/Day book describes only one generic model, there are actually two. The fifth edition of the Blue Book of Electric Guitars incorrectly describes the center strip as mahogany and says it has a raised cream pickguard (Gibson specs do not call for a pickguard and although some Spotlights have them, many don’t), chrome hardware (all Spotlights had gold-plated hardware), natural finish (they were available in natural and a darker finish), and manufactured from 1980 to ’85 (the only serial numbers for this guitar are from ’83). The only accurate description of the Spotlight is in Gruhn’s Guide to Vintage Guitars, Second Edition, by Gruhn and Carter.

The only available written record of the Spotlight is a 1983 spec sheet from the Gibson archives, provided by Cease. It indicates there were two distinct models of Spotlight Special – the ASB and the ANT. Both have the Custom Shop logo on the rear of the headstock, the 83-XXX serial number, solid mahogany body and the 2″ walnut strip down the center of the maple top, gold-plated hardware, including an adjustable Tune-O-Matic bridge, and stop bar tailpiece, two original PAF humbucking pickups, a one-piece solid mahogany neck with SP-1 peghead with 17-degree pitch, a black truss rod cover with no writing, a bound rosewood fingerboard with deluxe inlays and corresponding side dots. And both had a suggested retail price of $1,299, including Protector II case.

From there, however, the similarity ends.

The ASB model (antique sunburst) came with a “…highly figured quilted maple top,” solid cream-colored binding, traditional ebony head veneer with Gibson pearl inlay, and traditional keystone-shaped machine heads (probably all with double-ringed tuners). There is tremendous variation in the colors (dark tobacco to lighter brown, and at least one in three-color sunburst) and grade/quality of the quilted tops. It also appears some workers were meticulous about bookmatching the tops, while others picked up whatever was available – maybe they thought nobody would notice the sides didn’t match because they were separated by a 2″ walnut strip?

The ANT model (antique natural) came with a “…highly-figured curly maple top,” brown binding with two cream pinstripes on the body and one cream pinstripe on the neck, a walnut head veneer in light stain with Gibson logo inlay, and individual pearloid kidney-shaped machine heads. ANT models are definitely the more exotic-looking of the two because of the color, contrasting dark binding, and less-common tuner buttons. Among the ANT models on the market there is less variation in color (all are antique natural, some more gracefully aged), but again, the grade/quality of the curly maple tops and the attention to bookmatching is highly variable.

Gibson started making reissue-style Les Pauls in ’83, and the Spotlight Specials exhibit some features of the reissue. The strip of binding on the cutaway is styled after the ’50s models (consistent width, follows the contour of the body, exposing some of the maple top below the binding, compared to the deeper strip of binding with a straight edge following the maple/mahogany join on other models). Most Spotlights are in the nine-pound range, versus other notoriously heavy Les Pauls of the late ’70s/early ’80s. And Spotlights do not have the dreaded volute on the back of the neck. They are basic Les Pauls in terms of electronics and hardware; there are no coil taps or TP-6 tailpieces.

With the exception of their looks (and the tuners on the ANT), Spotlights have the feel of a ’59 reissue, with excellent weight, tone, and vibe. The neck thickness is somewhere between a ’59 and ’60. Despite the belief of poor production quality in the ’70s and ’80s, most Spotlights are of excellent quality, including fit and finish. A metal cover shields the pots beneath the back access plate. One criticism is the poor top bookmatching on some, and the stain or pore filler used on the light mahogany backs did not color or shade evenly on some ANT models.

It appears that interest in the Spotlight, due to its rarity and vibe, is growing among collectors as the guitar approaches “vintage” status. The Official Vintage Guitar Magazine Price Guide, Sixth Edition, suggests a Spotlight in excellent condition is selling for $1,800 to $2,300. But based on recent sales, it would appear few owners of examples in excellent or better condition are willing to part with them for less than $2,300, and some are selling for $3,000 or more. One ASB in mint condition is listed on an Italian guitar dealer’s website for 15 million lira – that’s $8,333 U.S. dollars!

There are still many unanswered questions. Although the specs do not call for a pickguard, the abundance of examples with cream-colored guard with gold mounting bracket would indicate some were factory installed. Although the specs call for a one-piece mahogany neck, there is at least one with a three-piece laminated mahogany neck that is fatter than most other Spotlights. Some were also made with knob pointers, and the top hat knobs are a different shape than reissue knobs available today. Was Gibson using available parts inventories?

Certainly, there is more to learn about the origin of the Spotlight, including how the features and design were decided. Was it really just serendipity?.

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Special thanks to Jeff Cease and Walter Carter, along with several collectors and e-mail pen pals who made this column possible.

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Gibson LP Spotlight Special ASB photo: Mike Slubowski.

This article originally appeared in VG‘s May ’00 issue.

In June of 1984 trucks came to take most of the machines out of Gibson’s historic Kalamazoo, Michigan factory and move them down to Nashville, Tennessee. The End of an Era. Shortly before, in May of ’84, the Gibson Custom Shop completed a batch of six instruments that had been co-designed by Los Angeles guitarist Mitch Holder in conjunction with Gibson R&D’s Tim Shaw and Bruce Bolen. These guitars were thin-line, semi-hollowbodies, made entirely of highly figured maple, with many deluxe, ES-355-style appointments, but with a number of interesting features that truly set them apart. They were two inches thick, not one-and-three-quarters. They had no F-holes. They had TP-6 fine-tuning tailpieces and graphite nuts. And they had three P-90 pickups with an easy-to-use switching system which allowed every possible combination available. Though never produced commercially, they were given a “model name”

Introduction
Gibson’s E-150/EH-150 amplifiers have long been regarded as the quintessential pre-WWII model, one of the most influential and recognizable amps of all time. It wasn’t the first amp Gibson marketed for use with an electric guitar (see “Antique Amplifiers” in the September ’97 issue of VG for the first), and it wasn’t originally designed or even manufactured by the highly respected company. But it will forever be associated with the early days of Gibson’s long-running stellar electric line.

Electric guitar pioneer and Gibson endorser Alvino Rey worked on the company’s behalf in Chicago in mid 1935, along with engineer John Kutilek of Lyon & Healy, trying to develop an electric Hawaiian guitar and amp set worthy of the Gibson name (VG January ’97). Rey had long been associated with the pre-Rickenbacher brand Electro Frying Pan and amps, which reportedly were role models for the experiments. While Gibson’s first real test run of aluminum-bodied Hawaiian models in late ’35 arguably showed little influence of the Chicago pickup experiments, the four-tube amps that accompanied the instruments had a definite leaning toward Alvino’s personal Electro amp.

The first production wood-bodied Hawaiians of early ’36 also came with this simple circuit, but by the end of the year Gibson had an improved model it could call its own. And for the next 30-plus years, they would stay at the forefront of guitar amplifier design, a fact often overshadowed by Fender’s dominance in the vintage market. If nothing else, the beautiful tweed cabinets of the pre-WWII Gibsons set a new standard for design – no more plain black boxes!

But more important than cosmetics, the late-’36 Gibson EH-150 stands out as the first amp to pursue the idea of tone manipulation as opposed to merely amplifying what the guitars sent their way. Rey is credited with designing the high-frequency roll-off tone control for guitars, which Gibson introduced to the world on the aluminum Hawaiians. The general idea was incorporated into the amp as a tone switch, to be used in conjunction with the tone pot on the guitars.

More important than that grand revelation would have to be the inclusion of an extension speaker output and matching speaker/cabinet setup, which today may also not seem like such an earth-shattering event. However, the intended application of the 1/4″ jack was described in an early owners manual as follows: “Its use presents many new possibilities. The true Echo effect is obtained by placing the E-150 speaker and amplifier near the player and the Echo Speaker at an approximate 35-foot distance, preferably further from the audience and to either side. The slight soundwave lag time…creates a new and beautiful effect.”

A second, more practical (for the time, at least) example followed.

“When using a vocal microphone the additional loudspeaker is also desirable, permitting better and more complete coverage of the audience.”

But while this use had been explored in PA system design for years, the “…beautiful effect” preceded all other “effects.” The idea of intentionally altering the acoustic sound of a guitar – embellishing it – and pursuing a more pleasurable sound cannot be ignored in historical contexts, for the future of Spanish guitar had little room for dry, flat tone. Remember, electric Hawaiian guitars, which inherently produced vibrato-drenched tone, outsold electric Spanish models by as much as 10 to 1 in the pre-effects days.

This month we’ll look at four basic versions of the EH-150, which showcase a number of the technological improvements that transpired from the mid ’30s to the start of WWII. These will be referred to here as Styles 1 and 2, having the smaller “square-corner” box with 10″ speakers and Styles 3 and 4 with the “rounded-corner” box housing 12″ speakers (there were actually two slightly different sizes of each box). Closing out the offerings are a couple amps marked “EH-150,” that aren’t!

Style 1 (1935-’36)
Like all amps of the time, there was no control panel on the chassis of the first E-150s. The power cable, fuse holder (round, house-fuse style on earliest models), on/off switch, pilot light, and two inputs were all secured directly to the backside of the bottom-mounted, bent-metal chassis. A black crinkle paint covered all the exposed surfaces and, like many of the amps of the time, there were no volume or tone controls.

Four tubes were laid out similar to Alvino’s Rickenbacher, to the left between the power transformer and the speaker came either a glass 80 or metal 5Z4 rectifier. Twin 6F6s for the power were mounted catty-corner to the right of the speaker with a shielded 6A6 preamp in the front right corner. This triode (actually twin triodes in parallel for Class A operation, as specified in the RCA tube manual) was fed directly by the parallel inputs and was all she wrote in the preamp tube gain department (amplification factor of approximately 35, compared to 100 for the modern 12AX7). The paralleled plates in turn directly fed the phase inverter, with no need for coupling caps.

Like many amps of the era, phase inversion for the push/pull outputs was performed by a transformer of the center-tapped secondary type, which stepped up the voltage negligibly while providing equal but opposite signal to the power tubes.

This device was mounted to the back wall of the chassis (opposite the inputs), as were the power supply filter caps (two large boxes). Between the front and back panels were the tube sockets, with only a few resistors and caps professionally connected using binding posts, a large grounding strip, and neatly tied wires. Whoever was building these – and it wasn’t the Gibson factory – knew proper assembly techniques (and could have taught Leo Fender a thing or two in his early days).

Access to the interior is a breeze, with the chassis secured to the cabinet by a single large bolt from underneath protruding through the metal topside before being capped by a fancy brass nut. Alligator cloth/paper lined the insides of the tweed-covered cabinet as neatly as plaid would line a suitcase of the era, a very pleasing touch. A small label attached to the inside surface of the removable back cover (also lined) had the serial number pencilled in. This number also shows up inside the chassis and on the magnet cover of the speaker. Utah’s respected 10″ field coil model, previously used by Rickenbacher, was standard.

Style 2 (1936-’37)
This new and vastly improved version was included in Gibson’s Catalog X from very late 1936, along with the brand-spankin’ new ES-150 Electric Spanish Guitar. The company’s reputation apparently needed to be considered, since it took over a year from the release of the metal Hawaiians to the first serious promotion of the electric line. It’s obvious whoever was in charge cared about tonal quality and not merely making the instruments louder, as with the early model. Two independent channels were installed, one with a single microphone input and a second having a pair of instrument inputs. Each channel connected to a separate volume pot, adding much-needed control when using a vocal mic and a guitar or multiple instruments. Other new additions included the extension speaker output jack labeled “Echo Speaker” and the Bass/Normal Tone switch (see above).

More power and gain came from two additional tubes and gain stages; a 6C5 triode driver (amplification factor of 20) prior to the phase inverting transformer and a 6N7 twin-triode preamp (amplification factor of 35) with one side for the instrument inputs and the other for the microphone channel, plus a high-mu (amplification factor of 100) 6F5 triode used in the first stage of the microphone channel, compensating for the low-output mics of the time. While considered low power by modern standards, the amp Gibson finally decided to promote is not drastically different from today’s amps, and reveals the primitive design of its predecessor in comparison. At $70, it was competitive with the better amps of the day.

Style 3 (1937-’41)
Another year, another new EH-150 amp – and only $5 more! The tweed case was enlarged and rounded on the left and right top edges, eliminating the need for the top four leather corner protectors (a transition model with the new circuit and the old cabinet has been reported, but these are either really rare or prototypical). Speaker size increased to a 12″ field-coil with the Gibson name on the magnet cover.

A beefed up circuit employing seven tubes featured the relatively new 6L6 beam-power variety, in metal. The 5Z3 rectifier, 6C5 driver and 6F5 microphone channel preamp remained from the earlier model, but the twin triode 6N7 was replaced with two 6C5 triodes for the instrument and microphone channels.

Power ratings were given for the first time, a respectable 15 watts.

It appears this version ran for a number of years, as the picture and basic description from the late-’37 Catalog Y also showed up in catalogs Z from late ’38 and AA from late ’39, plus AA supplements dated October 1, 1940, and May 20, 1941 (shown with the slant pickup on the instrument replacing the Charlie Christian-type of the earlier catalogs). These “What’s New” flyers from ’40 and ’41 replaced the AA electric section, due to rapid changes in that segment of the line. The first supplement showed new or updated artist renderings for the EH-185, 150, and 100 Hawaiians, the EH-100 amp and the ES-150 and 100 Spanish Guitars. Number two had the second-style ES-300, the new EH-125 Hawaiian/amp set and up-to-date prices, so they appear accurate, although they did not show the change from brown alligator lining to light cream leatherette on the 150. Finally, Catalog BB included the last version of the 150 amp, referred to here as Style 4.

Some examples from this era have two labels inside the cabinets – one for Geib, who made guitar and amp cases for Gibson, and a Western Electric licensing agreement granted to Electrical Research Products, Inc., who also made amps for Oahu, Harmony, etc.

STYLE 4 (Ca.1941-’42)
The final variation showed up in Catalog BB, dated 1942, with a rearranged control panel, having the tone switch replaced by a potentiometer, ranging from Treble at 0 to Bass at 9, with Normal halfway between. The picture was the once-again retouched version of the ’37 catalog’s shot. A major change in the circuit (that may have occurred earlier) was the tube phase inverter, with a twin-triode 6N7 replacing the transformer. Also new were the 5U4 rectifier and the three 6SQ7 high-mu triodes (amplification factor of 100), with two for the microphone channel and the third common to both channels.

An interesting placement of tubes on the amp, which was not included in the retouched catalog shot, features the power tubes on either side of the rectifier tube, not standard anywhere else in the world of amps, but somewhat logical. Removal of the tubes to satisfy our curiosity revealed marked sockets from the factory, so this apparently wasn’t the result of repairman monkey business. Sadly, the Echo Speaker output was removed for the final 150, possibly to save money on the center-tapped output transformer previously used. By this time, the EH-150 and the previously supercharged EH-185 shared the same circuit design, right down to the schematic.

EH-160 AC/DC
Some sections of urban America still relied on direct current in the ’30s, and in rural areas DC generators were the only supply of electricity. Gibson tried to accommodate those unfortunate few electric guitarists from these districts (and foreign markets) by offering a “universal-type” power transformerless amp capable of running just about anywhere, sometimes referred to in catalogs as the EH-160.

These were offered during the entire run of the 150, but the varieties are beyond the scope of this article. Mention should be made, however, of one that appears in The Tube Amp Book by Aspen Pitman. The 11-tube amp (page 47, Volume 3) is mistakenly noted as using a “…duet of 6L6s” when the four tubes in the back right corner should all be 25B6 power amplifier pentodes. There is a good chance this amp says EH-150 on the control panel (which matches the 150’s panel to a T), but a schematic for what appears to be this exact model, officially labeled EH-160, shows up in an old Gibson amplifier service book.

On the far left, in front of a transformer -like device (probably the power supply choke) are four 25Z5 rectifiers. Across the front right are three metal-cased 6C5 triodes, with one driving the phase inverting transformer, a second for the microphone input and a third for the two instrument inputs. The idea of universal-type AC/DC amps had been used previously for radios and would be exploited on student models by numerous guitar companies after WWII. Usually, this type of amp’s heaters are run in series, with their total adding up to approximately 110 volts. Since Gibson wanted the amp to compare favorably to its standard model, they ran a series that included the four 25Z5 rectifiers and one of the 6C5s (106 volts total) in parallel with the four 25B6 power tubes and remaining 6C6s (112 volts – note; the first number in a tube’s designation relates the heater voltage, e.g. 5Y3 uses a five-volt supply, 6L6 uses six-volt, etc.). As to how much current the amp drew or the amount of power it could produce, we’ll have to wait until one turns up in working order.

EH-150/185
Another amp that gets confused with the 150 was the early version of the EH-185, Gibson’s high-end addition to the line, with removable chassis and flip-top ported cabinet. It seems many of these were fitted with control panels marked EH-150 (albeit often scratched out, as seen later on wooden Fender Pros with Model 26 panels). It’s possible Gibson planned on revising the 150 combo, but decided to leave it untouched, and instead used the ideas for an improved, all-new (and more expensive) model. So the $75 150 combo remained and the piggyback 185 with separate bass and treble controls – not to mention more power and an $87.50 price tag – got shipped with the “new” 150 panels. Were any of the combos fitted with the separate bass and treble controls? Annual catalogs and updates from ’39, ’40, ’41, and ’42 point against it, but anything’s possible. Who’s got one?

Postscript
While tone is subjective, many great players have had relationships with the Gibson EH-150, especially the 12″ model. The most famous and influential of these is the late, great Charlie Christian. While he is later pictured with the EH-185 and the short-lived deluxe maple cabinet EH-275, his early use of the 150 is well documented on classic recordings with the Benny Goodman Sextet.

Even more important than these may be his after-hours jamming at Minton’s nightclub, in Harlem, where he was able to stretch and develop his ideas in a manner not possible with the Goodman band. Many feel the future of jazz guitar, and bebop in general, came out of these sessions.

According to interviews in Peter Broadbent’s Charlie Christian: The Seminal Electric Guitarist, Minton’s manager, Teddy Hill, bought an EH-150 and a bar-pickup equipped ES-150 guitar (similar to the one from Christian’s early Goodman days) to keep at the club for his use (more on this later). Check out Charlie Christian – Live Sessions At Minton’s Playhouse on the Jazz Anthology label to hear why his playing and the sound of the ES-150 through an EH-150 amp continue to thrill and inspire listeners and players the world over, as they have since 1939. And while his playing surely could have transcended his equipment, the fact he used an EH-150 for a good portion of his career guarantees the model a place in the Vintage Guitar Amplifier Hall Of Fame.

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Special thanks to Experience Music Project, Peter Blecha, Roger Sadowsky, Ken Fallon and the gang at Sadowsky Guitars, Rod McDonald, Bill Victor, Thom and Kathy at Ross Music, Buck Sulcer, and Lynn Wheelwright.

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EH-150 guitar and Style 1 amp from first quarter of ’36.

This article originally appeared in VG‘s Jul. ’99 issue.