With progressive-rock juggernaut Emerson, Lake & Palmer, bassist/vocalist Greg Lake (1947-2016) played more than one instrument made by the renowned British luthier Tony Zemaitis.
Photo: Ward Meeker/Doug Yellow Bird. Instrument courtesy Phil Winfield.
Known for their fancy tops of pearl or exquisitely engraved metal, Zemaitis instruments were truly handcrafted works of art, and the list of players who ordered them reads like the ultimate “Who’s Who” in the pantheon of rock music – Hendrix, Richards, Harrison, and more.
The brand gained huge exposure in the early ’70s, when two members of the Faces – guitarist Ron Wood and bassist Ronnie Lane – played metal-fronts with the personalized/one-of-a-kind engraving that were part of their mojo. But for as unique as Zemaitis axes are, few match this one designed by Lake and believed to be one of only two doublenecks made by Zemaitis.
Its body and necks are mahogany, fretboards are ebony, and headstock overlays are rosewood. The guitar neck has a scale measuring 255⁄8" (bass is 32″) and almost 24 frets – the fretboard is cut at an angle across what would be the 24th fret – and the position markers include the cluster of snowflakes at the 12th fret.
The metal top is made of an aircraft alloy called Dural, set apart here from other Zemaitis instruments by the fact it has been inlaid, rather than installed as a cap on the body, leaving a wooden bezel/edge around its perimeter.
The headstocks have the hallmark diamond-shaped/engraved “Z” logo plate and truss rod cover engraved with “Custom.” Engraving on the rest of the body isn’t as intricate as other Zemaitis instruments; it includes Lake’s initials (GSL) on the front and “Designed by G.S. Lake” on the Dural plate that covers much of its back. In 1981, Lake used a marker to autograph the rear plate.
The pickups were made by the late British builder John Birch, with actives on the bass. And while there’s a high tally of switches and knobs, their operation is straightforward; the “chickenhead” knobs on each side of the bridges are three-position pickup selectors. The knobs behind the pickup selectors are Volume and Tone for each pickup. There’s a master Volume for each side, with that for the bass being a round knob, the guitar’s a chickenhead. Each also has a coil-tap, and the chickenhead knob in the center (below the engraved tail pieces) engages one neck or the other.
Weighing an impressive 17.2 pounds, it has earned the title “heavy,” whether in a literal sense or in figurative reference to the bombastic music it helped make with Emerson, Lake & Palmer. Following the tradition of star guitars that develop a daedal history is lore about how this one apparently used to top the scales a pound heavier. The story goes that Tony Z. tried to dissuade Lake from ordering it, saying it would be too heavy. Lake insisted, however, then later decided Zemaitis was right and had portions “trimmed” by another luthier. After learning of the alteration, Zemaitis never spoke to Lake again. When asked about it in 2006, Lake did not confirm or deny the events, but said he never had a problem with Tony.
Another tale says it was further routed under its top, but its present owner says the cavity has not been altered.
This exquisite instrument epitomizes the tools utilized by rock stars at the pinnacle of success, and how they design axes to their specs. Impressive music is often created by impressive instruments.
This article originally appeared in VG April 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
1960 FENDER 5G7 BANDMASTER • Preamp tubes: four 7025 (a more-rugged 12AX7 equivalent), one 12AX7 • Output tubes: two 6L6 • Rectifier: solidstate diodes • Controls: Normal channel: Bass, Treble, Volume; Vibrato channel: Bass, Treble, Volume, Speed, Intensity; Presence • Speakers: three 10″ Jensen P12R • Output: approximately 45 watts RMS Photos and amp courtesy of Tommie James.
The earliest renditions of our gear icons are often the most valuable, but on many occasions it’s the transition models – those that bridged one era to the next – that elicit the most excitement from real enthusiasts. Such is the case with the 1960 “center-volume” Fender Bandmaster, model 5G7.
The tweed 5E7 Bandmaster that preceded it – the first of Fender’s quirkily appealing 3×10″ combos (profiled here in October ’16) – is a rare and exotic beast in its own right, but the short-lived 3×10″ in Tolex with newfangled front-mounted control panel is utter hen’s teeth. Add to that the illusive feature set of this early example and you’ve got an amp that really sets Fender fans’ pulses racing.
The amp’s owner – musician and VG reader Tommie James, sums it up.
“This amp has the unique and rare features of the very first brown Fender amps, such as the rough pink-brown Tolex, tweed-era grillecloth, light-brown faceplate with matching color in the flat logo tail, center-mounted Volume controls, RCA speaker plug, and mysterious Pulse-Adjust [on the back panel] with a plugged hole.”
The closer you look, though, the more the quirks reveal themselves. Clearly, Fender’s transition from tweed-covered amps with rear-mounted chassis to Tolex-covered amps with top-mounted chassis – which was also a significant transition in the history of amp design et al – didn’t take us from the former to the more commonly perceived rendition of the latter overnight, and this Bandmaster, along with several of its early Professional Series siblings, displays a fascinating Frankensteinian cobble between tweed and Tolex.
For another perspective on this model’s history, we turned to Paul Linden, an authority on early Fender Tolex amps in general and center-Volume amps, in particular.
“These amps have an interesting chronology that applies, more or less, to all six Professional Series amps that went through the center-Volume transition roughly from late 1959 to about May of 1960,” Linden said. “The earliest phase had no metal corners and no tube chart, which makes them hard to date. Those from January and February of 1960 had charts, but often, no corners. March and April saw the last phase with protective corners and tube charts. My 5G7 Bandmaster has both April and May stamps on it, and a serial number in the high 500s, which is about the end of the run for the center-volume ones. The 3×10″ Tolex amps continued until the late fall of 1960 – November at least – but without the tweed style grillecloth after about September.”
James’ amp has no metal corners, and that’s the way it was made, but it does have a tube chart bearing the date-code stamp “JC”; J denotes 1960, C denotes March. Clearly, this was one of the last protector-less Bandmasters to go out the door before Fender figured out the cabinets were too ding-able without them. It’s probably a build from very early in that month.
The speakers in early Tolex combos represent another fragile design element that was eventually rectified by Fender. Accurate specs are difficult to come by, but most accounts rate these speakers’ power-handling at around 12 to 15 watts each, making even a trio of them ill-suited to handling the amp’s 45-watt rating – certainly not able to take it for long when the combo was pumping hard. (And you want to hear crazy? The equally powerful 1960 2×10″ Super got the same P10R speakers.) As often happened, this Bandmaster’s original set apparently gave up the ghost early.
Matching RA codes indicate this amp was returned to Fender in 1963 for replacement speakers. This Bandmaster’s tube chart displays a date-code stamp “JC,” denoting March, 1960.
“Note the ink stamp from 1963 on the inside of the cabinet, with a Fender four-digit return authorization (RA) number,” said James. “The first two letters are the week, the second two are the year. The same number appears on each speaker frame, indicating the original speakers were replaced with the P10Rs still in the amp.”
Interestingly, by the end of the transitional period, Fender was generally loading its more-powerful amps with robust Jensen P10Q speakers, likely in an effort to fend off such warranty claims. Nonetheless, the P10Rs in this Bandmaster somehow survived.
Other than the look and the control configuration, what’s the difference between the ’59 tweed Bandmaster and the ’60 Tolex model? It might be easier to say what’s not different. The preamp circuit in the 5G7 was entirely different from the 5E7. The gambit now opened with a 7025-derived gain stage (rather than the 5E7’s 12AY7) followed by potentiometers for Treble and Bass, then the Volume pot, and a second gain stage prior to the long-tailed-pair phase inverter. Thus, the whole center-Volume thing was begun by Fender because that’s where the control’s function occurred in the signal chain; that’s also where the Volume pot existed in the later brownface and blackface amps, circuit-wise, even though Fender had moved its panel position back to the more-traditional first inline and running the wiring back to and from, as necessary. This was different from the shared cathode-follower tone stack and split-load inverter of the tweed Bandmaster… and we haven’t even gotten to the Tolex amp’s legendary harmonic vibrato.
Linden, an accomplished harp player, tells us the amp is hard to beat for that, in part because of the large amount of bass generated by the circuit (thanks to higher available voltage).
“They may have the highest voltage of any Fender series; the 67233 power transformer kicked out 500 to 515 volts DC, compared to tweed models, which were about 100 volts less,” he said. “The large bass response also makes these cleaner than the tweeds, so notes hold together better and it won’t fart out as fast. It’s tone generally is cleaner than tweed but dirtier than the rest of the Tolex amps. It’s a magic spot for me.”
James relates that he acquired this startlingly clean example in a trade many years ago, and that it was original other than a replacement output transformer he has since replaced with a reproduction from amp maker Mike Clark, who also serviced the amp to keep it in action.
Interestingly, it appears most original 5G7 Bandmasters were equipped with the same 4-ohm output transformers used in 2×10″ Supers, resulting in a slight load mismatch in the 3×10″ (which present a speaker-load impedance of approximately 2.7 ohms), though Fender’s OTs always were fairly resilient in the face of such conditions. Regardless of the replacement part, this brown-Tolex Bandmaster is a raving beauty inside and out, and a fascinating time capsule that has eschewed the glass case to keep on making great music.
Populated by a wealth of yellow Astron signal capacitors, the circuit outwardly looks much like that of any of the larger tweed amps of the late ’50s.
This article originally appeared in VG April 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The declaration – typically from an adolescent family member – purses the lips of parents hopeful the child’s future would be more about picket fences and 2.1 offspring than hit songs and hedonistic excess. But that’s not how it was with family of one singer/songwriter/producer. Hoping his son would pursue his musical dreams, Steven Arena not only encouraged his eldest son, Chris, to make a living by playing music, he unabashedly offered a bribe in the form of a six-stringed family heirloom.
Used for years by Chris’ grandfather, New York jazzer Joseph Arena, the ’59 Les Paul Standard is one of very few finished by Gibson in black instead of the sunburst the company used to show off the figured-maple tops used on the model from 1958 through 1960 (another Standard finished in black was profiled in the December ’14 issue of VG).
“I grew up with the guitar,” said Chris. “Christmas Eve was a big event at our house, and we had a huge party every year. I remember it being tucked behind the sofa in that worn case before the party, and how grandpa would polish and tune it for what seemed like forever before finally plugging in.
“Then, the house filled with music. My mother’s father played piano while Joe, my father’s father, played his Les Paul. For hours, they’d jam on Christmas songs, Italian songs, and every standard ever written. I loved it!”
The back of the headstock carries reproduction tuning machines and shows the wear of a working guitar along with the inked serial number (cropped for the sake of security)
After graduating with a B.A. in Music from the University of Memphis, Chris began writing songs that would become his first album and working with Tony Maseratti, a Grammy-winning producer who would become his mentor and encouraged him to write material that could be used on TV shows; programs like “Dawson’s Creek” and “Grey’s Anatomy” had created a platform where music was used as a cinematic element, much like in feature films. For Arena, ABC’s “Pretty Little Liars,” NBC’s “Chicago Fire,” TV Land’s “Younger,” along with MTV shows like “Catfish,” “Scream,” and “Teen Mom” offered a chance to create, record, and put his music in front of vast audiences while forgoing rigors like booking gigs, touring, etc. In 2015, his song, “Dreams,” was used on “General Hospital” and earned him an Emmy nomination. His song, “Extraordinary,” will be part of the upcoming film Cage Dive, while another, “Turn Me On,” landed a spot in Random Tropical Paradise, set for release in late 2017.
Today, Arena works from his studio in Venice and is prepping a second album, while the ’59 resides in the Rare Guitar section of the Grammy Museum, leaving (as it has twice for performances by Arena at the Gibson Baldwin Showroom in Beverly Hills) only when accompanied by an armed guard and a $1 million insurance policy.
We spoke with him about the special instrument.
Photos by Casey Curry
When did you first hear the story of the Les Paul and how your grandfather got it?
I don’t know exactly when, but I know he sold his D’Angelico Excel and went to Sam Ash Music in Hempstead, New York. He wanted a black guitar to match his tuxedo, but a Les Paul Custom was $375, and he didn’t have that much. The Standard cost just under $300 with a case, but of course was sunburst. So, he had the store order a Standard in black and bought a cheaper case from them. It has held up very well through the years; it’s weathered, but still in great shape.
When did you first get to hold it?
As a kid. I remember my father wouldn’t hand it to me unless I was sitting down, or he’d hold it while I stood in front of him… Hey, it’s heavy! But I really don’t recall the first time I was allowed to truly hold and play something on it; a good guess would be around 12 years of age. And I remember playing “Stairway to Heaven” on it, but by then I’d been playing other instruments for a few years.
What’s your grandpa’s story?
He learned to play as a teenager. He was drafted into the Navy toward the end of World War II and became a band leader. When he got out in the late ’40s, he started playing at small clubs and restaurants in Brooklyn. He did that until the mid ’70s, when he and my grandmother moved to Los Angeles. There, he played mostly in Riverside County, then in the mid ’80s he got a steady gig at The Colorado Belle Casino in Laughlin, Nevada.
(Top) Arena with the guitar at the Gibson/Baldwin Showroom. (Bottom) From the family photo album: Arena’s grandfather, Joe (right), in the day with his Les Paul and brother, Tom, with a D’Angelico.
His brother, Tom, was apparently also an accomplished player…
He was an exceptional guitarist and had a large music school in Brooklyn in the ’60s. My father says his uncle was a great jazz technician and a student of theory.
What sort of player is your dad?
He’s great. He started playing when he was really young and studied music through his childhood and high school. He knows a lot about music and theory and he taught me everything I know. He played the ’59 in high school and college bands, and considered going to the Berklee College of Music. But he also loved airplanes and got his pilot license when he was 17, then went to an aviation college and has been an airline pilot for 35 years.
Your dad passed the guitar along to you on the condition that you become a professional musician. That’s a 180 compared to the attitude of most parents when their kid says, “I wanna be a rock star!”
My father would joke and tell me that if I finished college and became a professional musician, he would give me the guitar. Well, I finished college and made songwriting and music my profession. Dad, being a man of his word, gave me the guitar. He also told my younger brother that if he finished college and became a professional aviator, he’d buy an airplane for him! Well, my brother’s now an airline pilot and dad is looking for a small plane for him.
Bottom line is that dad really wanted us to finish college and have careers that made us happy. And I think it was a foregone conclusion that I’d wind up with the Les Paul. But really, we all still think of it as my grandfather’s guitar, even though he passed in ’99.
What was your first gig with it?
That was to record my first album, One’s Not Half Two.
How does it compare to your other guitars?
There is no comparison to its aged wood and aged humbuckers. The sustain is incredible, the action is great, and the tone is awesome. It sounds like Duane Allman’s ’59 on Eat a Peach.
What factors come into play when you consider using it for a gig or session?
Security is a big deal. The first time I played the Gibson/Baldwin Showroom, it was a sold-out show to see and hear the guitar. Numerous collectors were there and they all asked, “Is it real?” Jim Rosenberg, president of Epiphone, was at the event and called Gibson historian Edwin Wilson at their Custom division to ask if the guitar had been authenticated, which of course it had been by Edwin himself.
Is it still at the Grammy Museum?
It is, and has was recently displayed with the Bob Dylan exhibit. It’s on two-year renewable loan.
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Had fate been just a notch kinder, Ralph Jones might today be a ’60s counterculture icon alongside Bob Dylan, Muhammad Ali, and Steve McQueen.
Hyperbole? Perhaps. But at the very least, Jones’ name would be listed alongside those of Leo Fender and Ted McCarty. Because when he started making guitars in a small shop in Wheaton, Maryland, Jones was doing something very different for 1965.
1) This Signature model was made for Tommy Cash and today belongs to Justin Lomery, who has played alongside post-punkers The Chameleons, with punk/Americana songwriter Jesse Malin, and is today working with Paige and Aimee Anderson of The Fearless Kin. “I love the guitar for many styles,” he said. “Its body, along with the neck’s playability and short scale, is great for the post-punk/shoegaze, ethereal, ambient sounds I like. The Calibrato is one-of-a-kind and the pickups pack a lot of punch whether I’m running clean or using overdrive pedals.” Lomery mostly runs it in stereo through a modified ’65 Fender Twin Reverb and a Roland JC-120. 2) A Style 1 Golden Comet. Finishes were a catalyzed Sherwin-Williams varnish called Sher-Wood Super Kemvar “M” Topcoat – the M denoting its formulation specifically for Micro-Frets. 3) This Style 1 Huntington was made for Buddy Merrill. The pickguard is typical of early/Style 1 models, with bi-level design and scalloped edge that reveals four half-exposed thumbwheels to control volume and tone for each pickup.
Though documentation is sparse, Jones’ instruments were the prototypes for what would become Micro-Frets Guitars – an antithesis to the sub-par offerings cranked out for corporate overlords at CBS (Fender) and Norlin Industries (Gibson) who cared little about quality or innovation but were quite concerned with the bottom line.
Working in a 15,000-square-foot factory financed by business partner Marion Huggins on Grove Road in nearby Frederick, in 1967, Jones and a small flock of builders began not only cutting and carving bodies, necks, and plexiglass pickguards, they also machined components including the company’s Micro-Nut and Calibrato tailpiece.
At its launch, Micro-Frets offered four models – the Plainsman, Covington, Huntington, and Orbiter – with a body shape often compared to a potato (thanks to wide lower bouts) and with symmetrical cutaways. Dubbed the Style 1 series, today they’re noted for having klunky two-piece bodies fastened with clips and bearing a pronounced seam around their sides created by what Jones labeled a “Tempered Masonite Gasket.” His system routed two slabs of poplar or maple that were then joined using recessed metal clips and secured by screws in the neck plate and bridge. The design allowed access to electronics and installation of a stylish grillecloth that covered the sound hole from inside (he patented the methods and machines used in their execution using the name “Tonesponder”). The company’s first pickguards were a bi-level design with a scalloped edge that half-exposed four thumbweel controls – two Volume, two Tone. While attractive, their placement was inconvenient.
Jones left woodworking to others and focused his energy overseeing the making of a handful of elements that truly distanced Micro-Frets from the crowd. First was the Micro-Nut, which allowed the player to intonate each string not only at the bridge, but via an adjusting screw on each string at the nut(s). In ’68, he devised the first wireless transmitter for guitar, which broadcast on standard FM and had a variable capacitor that allowed the user to tune it.
VG Overdrive is sponsored by The Official Vintage Guitar Price Guide 2019. The Guide gathers input from 35 of the world’s foremost expert dealers, each of whom brings decades of experience in the business. That’s one of many reasons it’s the most-trusted source for values!
Though not available on the earliest Style 1 guitars, another Jones invention was the Calibrato, a sophisticated tailpiece designed to hold tune better than a conventional vibrato, and more importantly, allow bending entire chords in tune. In a 1995 Vintage Guitar feature on the brand, “Different Strummer” columnist Michael Wright described it this way:
“[It] could be adjusted to keep all strings harmonically in tune during use, taking into account string gauges, with less chance of going out of tune upon returning to pitch. The spring was simply a tensed piece of square metal attached to the tailpiece and inserted under two sidebars and the adjustable bridge.”
The Micro-Frets catalog page for the Signature model.
The tailpiece achieved stability using six set screws that adjusted the angle of the string behind the bridge, and Wright likened the Microsonic bridge (another Jones innovation) to Ibanez’s Gibralter unit of the late ’70s. Speaking of comparisons, Wright equated the feel of the Calibrato to the vibrato developed by Semie Moseley – light and smooth, with a setup/maintenance protocol similar to a Floyd Rose… but more complex.
In ’68, Jones briefly used DeArmond-sourced pickups while transitioning to an original design created by Bill Lawrence. Assembled by Jones’ wife, Hazel, with occasional help from production manager Gary Free, they were wound on bobbins made from plexiglass. Another change saw the pickguard move to a three-knob arrangement – one Volume and two Tone – marking the transition to Style 1.5.
The following year brought the Style 2, which did away with the gasket and grillecloth but kept the clips joining the two pieces. That move, along with pickguards being given a simpler bi-level design and controls moving to a basic one-Volume/one-Tone setup, may have helped the company hit stride, as from ’69 through ’71 it offered its most expansive line – nine models including the top-end Huntington, which retailed at the time for $495.
With the Style 3 series introduced in ’71, Jones and company ditched the metal clips and began gluing the halves, giving the guitars a more-conventional feel and sound. Pickguards became a clear upper/white lower design (previously, they’d been white on white).
4) Style 1 Plainsman. 5) Pickguards on the later Style 2 models like this Spacetone were still a funky bi-level, but abandoned the scallops for a simpler design with more-traditional Volume and Tone knobs (one of each). 6) From 1970/’71, the later Style 2 (collectors refer to it as Style 2.5) had a pickup switching system that used one three-way as a typical bridge/both/neck, while the second engaged the optional Hi-Fi circuit designed by Bill Lawrence, which tapped the pickup at about 80 percent of its winding. “The wire was a 52-gauge lacquer-coated copper, which is finer than a human hair,” said Will Meadors. “That made it possible to get enough windings for sufficient turns in the small cover, which was 1/8″ white plexiglass. It was very difficult to replicate.”
But then, fate lent a cruel twist. Just as things were starting to roll for Micro-Frets, Ralph Jones suffered a heart attack and died on April 18, 1972. Feeling an obligation to the workers, Hazel Jones continued operations with Free in charge of construction and design. For nearly four years, he designed and built the solidbody Swinger guitar and Husky bass using remaining inventory of bodies, necks, and hardware. Rumors surfaced of a resonator, a 12-string, and banjos having been built, but their veracity ranges from unsubstantiated to (in the case of banjos) debunked.
Rather than see the guitars drift further from the vision conceived by Ralph, Hazel opted to cease production after Free exhausted the supply of parts.
Will Meadors, who in 2004 bought the Micro-Frets name and built a run of guitars based on Jones’ designs (see sidebar), believes it was also a matter of dollars and cents.
“When you consider the price of each guitar and how many were made – the earliest serial numbers I’ve found were in the 1100 range, so probably 2,600 instruments – at $227 per guitar, wholesale, that’s about $590,000. The company ran for about 10 years, which means they brought in an average of $59,000 annually… theoretically. From that you have to extract real-estate taxes, electricity, water, heat, wages, payroll taxes, worker’s comp, insurance… I can’t see how it ever earned a penny.”
Though Meadors says it’s generally believed money man Huggins would have been willing to keep the company going if Hazel expressed the willingness to do so, in the fall of ’75, the equipment and remaining inventory were sold, the space vacated.
7) A Huntington from the early Style 3 era, before transitioning to clear upper/white lower pickguard. 8) 2004 Wanderer.
“At that time, I was in a band with the son of the local pawn-shop owner, and they bought a number of the guitars,” he said. “Then, my brother worked for the company that bought the building and it was his job to clear it out before they moved in. He found some interesting things, some of which I have still – a box of barely used sandpaper, unused buffing-wheel pads, and a piece of test-cut wood from the router that looks like it was used to set the round-over on an edge.”
Other items in Meadors’ collection include an assortment of original tooling, prototype parts, and patterns including one for an archtop similar to a Gibson ES-175.
Though it’d be a stretch to say Micro-Frets guitars were “popular,” they did gather a whiff of market momentum thanks in large part to endorsement deals like the one with Grand Funk Railroad’s Mark Farner, who in the ’70s used a Signature model onstage in stadiums around the world. Others who put them in front of wide audiences included country superpicker Buck Trent (including when he backed an upstart singer named Dolly Parton), proto-rocker Carl Perkins, and Buddy Merrill, who as a member of the orchestra on “The Lawrence Welk Show” used custom models with block inlays, ebony fingerboards, and headstock logos cut from pearl.
Pages from an early-’70s Micro-Frets catalog include Ralph Jones’ Flat-Top Guitar Pickup, which boasted modification-free sound hole mounting and had its own Volume control.
Still, the brand never came close to competing on a broader scale with Fender or Gibson (or even Gretsch, etc.). Its sales were heavily dependent on local retailers and in time the guitars gained cachet amongst area players like Craig Stang.
“I became aware of them in 1989,” he said. “I was a fan of mid-century anything – tailfins, diners, architecture, furniture, music – and at the time was playing in Killers From Space, a surf band with a space theme. So, for me the guitars were a match made in heaven. They not only were made in our hometown but had names like Orbiter, Spacetone, Stage II, Voyager, Golden Comet. Even the colors were spacey-sounding – Martian Sunburst, Venutian Sunrise.
“I’m especially drawn to the first-gen/Style 1,” he added. “I love the DeArmond pickups and clipped-together body with the gasket. And that creak when you move while playing? I love it – gives them character. Plus, that first-gen Calibrato is a beautiful piece that borrows heavily from Googie architecture.”
Stang has researched Micro-Frets’ history and runs a website where he gathers literature, receipts, stories, and photos. He has owned several models, often holding one for a couple years before selling it to try something different. One particularly memorable example was an Orbiter he bought for $460 from someone who’d acquired it at the factory’s closing sale then essentially forgot it in his closet for 25 years.
9) Side view of Tommy Cash’s Micro-Fret offers a view of the seam created by joining the two body seams. 10) Though clunky in its execution, the Micro-Frets two-part body allowed easy access to electronics. 11 & 12) Will Meadors’ modern versions of the Micro-Frets Micro-Nut and Calibrato. 13 & 14) Micro-Frets founder Ralph Jones held U.S. patents for the Micro-Nut and Calibrato. Will Meadors calls him “… the true, brilliant genius of the place.”
“Soon after I got it, a guy from Georgia offered me $1,800,” Stang said. “I was thrilled and took his money, thinking I’d replace it with another. Turns out, though, the Orbiter is rare, and finding one has proven difficult. I saw one for sale more than a decade ago with a $3,500 asking price.”
The building that housed the original Micro-Frets factory still stands.
“I frequently drive past and dream of being a fly on the wall there in 1967,” said Stang. “I recently bought a Style 1 Plainsman from Christian Wargo of the band Fleet Foxes, and I drove it over for a reunion. She got to tour the world and is now back home in Frederick.”
While Stang and Meadors agree Micro-Frets suffered an inglorious end, the latter sees a bright side.
“What’s important is that these cool guitars were ever conceived and built, and still exist 50 years later. It’s just amazing. And, being in a small town, the fact they didn’t ultimately succeed is unfortunate; these were people we knew, people from our neighborhoods. The Micro-Frets story is woven into the history of the town.”
And it’s not over.
In late 2016, Stang followed in Meadors’ super-fan-to-builder footsteps when he is assumed operations with intent to re-launch the brand. He’s now building prototypes.
“I hope to have a website launched soon, and will have an initial offering of four model including the Spacetone, Swinger, Signature, and Stage II,” he said. “On the 50th anniversary of the original factory opening, Micro-Frets will continue to be made in the Maryland tradition, in-house with as much locally sourced materials as possible. And yes, the legendary Martian Sunburst will be among the color options.”
Fan of the Brand
Will Meadors and Micro-Frets in the 21st Century By Ward Meeker
(LEFT) Will Meadors with a 2004 Spacetone. Sharing the frame are an ’04 Comet, a 1968 Stage II, a ’70 Spacetone, an ’04 Golden Melody in Holly Berry finish, and an ’04 Calibra in Black Gloss. (RIGHT) Micro-Frets builder Gary Free in the company lobby in 2004, strumming one of two new Golden Melody models finished in color-shifting paint. Other instruments on display include (from left) a ’67 Wanderer, ’67 Plainsman, ’66 Golden Comet, another new Golden Melody, a Calibra, the first Spacetone (made for Hazel Jones), and an ’04 Golden Melody in black. Luke Greffen, a woodworker in the latter version of Micro-Frets, sits to the right, gazing at the M-F ad in Vintage Guitar. Hanging on the wall is the 14-foot outdoor sign used by the original company. Will Meadors: Michael G. Stewart.
As a teen growing up in Frederick, Maryland, Will Meadors frequented Colonial Music and Frederick Music Center, where the walls were lined by Fender, Gibson, and Martin instruments along with a few by Gretsch, Harmony, Epiphone, and imports like Teisco, Coral, and Danelectro.
And then there were these oddball guitars made by locals…
“I remember the first thing through my mind was, ‘They sure are weird!’” he recalled about his first experience with a Micro-Frets guitar. Picking one up to strum only furthered the notion. “They rattled and creaked… sorta felt like they were about to fall apart!”
As a young man, Meadors’ choice in instruments followed the mainstream, but he nonetheless maintained an appreciation for Micro-Frets and its local ties. In 2004, that interest intensified when he and fellow software engineer/guitar guy/Frederick resident Paul Rose assumed the expired patents, copyrights, designs, and rights to the brand with the intent to reintroduce it to the market.
“We opened a small shop where we built guitars to most closely match the Style 3, with hand-made pickups and CNC-produced bodies and necks,” he said.
The 21st-century Micro-Frets produced only about 30 guitars (with serial numbers starting at 5001) before the onset of the Great Recession, which created challenges in their effort to secure funding and space to go full-scale. All that remains today is a handful of parts.
“Much like the original company, we made everything except the fretwire and tuners, including the Micro-Nut and Calibrato. Ours, though, were not cast or plated steel, but were polished stainless steel and billet aluminum formed on a CNC. They offered significant improvement in appearance and durability.”
For Meadors and others, Micro-Frets’ enduring charisma lies partly in the anti-Gibson/-Fender aspect of their very existence, as well as exotic, hand-made elements like the Rube-Goldberg-esque Micro-Nut.
“I marveled at how a machined, stamped, screwed-together assembly could be better than a basic piece of plastic, and for years I figured it was snake oil,” he said. “But when we started producing them, we saw how it made every note on the fretboard play in tune; that sold me. It’s really amazing when you don’t hear off-sounding notes or beat-frequency oscillations between intervals.”
That was reinforced one day when Meadors was working in his office and heard Gary Free noodling on a guitar in the next room – sounding very out of tune.
“Without getting out of my chair, I softly hollered at him, ‘Hey, can you intonate that better?’ A couple minutes later, I heard him again… still… So I went out and here he was playing a ’77 Les Paul – not one of Gibson’s best efforts, I know, but at that moment I realized that our guitars sounded so much better.”
Even if their efforts to market a new line proved unsuccessful, Meadors thinks the latter-day M-F did some good.
“Because we designed and machined our parts to original dimensions and test-fit them on original models, we know they fit the old guitars,” he said, looking to aid anyone who may be searching. “Pickups, of course, were the most sought-after items, and unfortunately we don’t have any of those left.”
Mistakes of the Past
An M-F Bass Returns to Glory By Ward Meeker
Jim Sellers and the Micro-Frets bass.
Largely ignored, the odd-looking bass had been hanging in the corner of Keen Kraft Music – Edmonton’s renowned “store for players” – for who knows how long. Its Micro-Frets branding lacked the cachet of Fender or Gibson, let alone the panache of a Rickenbacker or Ampeg. But, one day in 1978, its peculiarity – and price – drew the attention of a bargain-hunting player.
Grabbing it from the hanger, 20-year-old Jim Sellers sat on a stool, plugged the bass into a worn demo amp, and started to pluck. “It’s nice and light…” he thought to himself, noting its fast action, but the frets were worn and its pickups were weak and noisy. Long story, short? It needed work.
Glancing toward the counter, he asked, “What’s the story with this?” Nobody had a clue, but the sales guys offered only a “take it or leave it” attitude. Sellers bit.
After a few months trying to bond with the instrument, he thought maybe it should be a different color. Though not versed in the repair or maintenance of stringed instruments, Sellers removed its hardware and electronics, separated neck from body, and grabbed a sanding block.
Then, as often happens, life interrupted. A slowed economy impacted Sellers’ employer, forcing him to relocate. His possessions, including the bass and its parts, were stashed away. And when he went to retrieve it two years laters, Sellers was disheartened to find the body hadn’t fared well through two cold, dry Canadian winters in the family’s unheated storage unit.
“There were pronounced separations in the grain,” he said. “But the real shock came when I couldn’t find the pickups, bridge, nut, or back plate.”
For months, he searched in vain for the parts before finally becoming disheartened. For 25 years, his dream of rebuilding the bass was again forced aside. Finally, as the internet emerged as a resource, information gradually began to surface – given the niche element of the Micro-Frets brand, though, there was little beyond minutiae. That is, until one day in 2012.
“I found a story detailing the modification of a Signature model the owner wanted to make replicate a six-string bass played by Genesis guitarist Mike Rutherford. The piece included Will Meadors, who by then owned the brand.”
Enthusiasm renewed, Sellers reached out and Meadors replied, saying he had designs for original parts. More crucially, he offered to machine some for Sellers.
“I felt like I was being rewarded for clinging to my dream for so long against what I figured were long odds,” Sellers said.
The next step was to find someone to refinish the body and neck.
“There were a number of specialists in my area, but I had trouble finding one willing to take on the challenge of restoring a 40-year-old instrument that had been knocked around, dinged up, and poorly sanded,” he said.
(LEFT) The neck plate on Sellers’ bass, stamped with the logo and serial number 1298. (RIGHT) Micro-Frets basses were given their own version of the Micro Nut.
Eventually, he tracked down Miles Jones at his Fretworks shop near Calgary. A 30-year veteran of the trade, Jones had done work for Amos Garrett, Jann Arden, and Luther “Guitar Jr.” Johnson. His first step was to repair the wood and plane the neck. Then, he gave it new frets and replaced some of the mother-of-pearl fretboard inlays. For its finish, they chose a wine-red color befitting the age of the instrument and highlighting the grain on the body. The neck was given a slightly dark tint.
Jones’ work, Sellers said, expertly masked the effects of his own misguided effort.
The components made by Meadors – hand-wound pickups, the nut, bridge, and neck plate all machined from aluminum and stainless steel – pushed the instrument close to original with the only conciliations being the black-plastic (instead of white plexi) pickup surrounds and the pots and wiring, which were modernized.
“The result was essentially a new instrument,” said Sellers. “It played solidly, sounded good, and its action was light.”
Thus could have concluded the story of a glorious restoration 35 years in the making… But in late 2013, Sellers got a pleasant surprise.
“It was one of those serendipitous moments,” he recalled. “The original components turned up in a box of family artifacts. Someone was cleaning out their basement, and there they were in a bag with my name on it. I was very fortunate they weren’t thrown out as junk after three decades.”
Dream reignited, Sellers called Jones. And though there were challenges brought about by the parts having aged and wires being broken or brittle, the effort and cost – “several times more than it would have been in 1980” – was worth it.
“I came away with two lessons,” Sellers said. “The first is don’t let kids buy classic guitars until they appreciate what they are, and the other is to let a professional work on them.”
And while he’s fully aware that the money he spent could have acquired any number of basses including one of his all-time favorites, a Rickenbacker 4001, “…this is a fragment of my past. And in a market where guitars and components are as replaceable as the latest cell phone, it’s good to keep something that was built by hand, in limited numbers, purposely different from the rest. It’s a piece of history – a realization of the dream.
“Besides, how many times do you get to go back and fix a mistake?”
Hand-Me-Down Huntington
By Deke Dickerson
Dickerson with the Huntington that once belonged to Merrill.
Buddy Merrill became a Micro-Frets endorser in the late ’60s, after a similar deal ended with Fender. One of the lead guitarists on Lawrence Welk’s television show, he commanded a huge audience each week. Micro-Frets initially gave him a sunburst Spacetone, but it wasn’t to his liking and within a year or two they sent him a blond Huntington – top of the line.
In 2008, I paid a visit to Buddy, and while looking through some of his personal memorabilia, we found the Huntington in his closet, water-damaged from a plumbing leak. Its discovery spurred a brief discussion during which he told me that he liked Micro-Frets guitars – maybe not as much as a Strat – but thought they were nice instruments. Then, as we discussed what it would take to repair his, he said, “You can have it, just promise me you’ll practice.”
Buddy always liked the pickups, which are some of the best-sounding I’ve ever heard. They cut through a stage mix with staggering clarity – “like ringing a bell” always comes to mind when I use it onstage.
It’s an exceptionally well-made guitar. The body and neck are gorgeous maple and the Calibrato is a beautifully simple thing that works exactly as it’s supposed to work. The only issue I ever had with the guitar – and probably the reason I don’t play it as much as I’d like – is the Micro-Nut. Micro-Frets did a great job with the design; it does allow calibration of its intonation and plays perfectly in tune. But the company dealt primarily with players who never bent strings, and apparently didn’t consider that in its design. When you bend the unwound strings, they move in the guides, making “screech” and “click” sounds and, unfortunately, not returning to original pitch.
I’d cast my vote for the Micro-Nut being one of the main reasons Micro-Frets guitars didn’t catch on. It’s a good idea, but didn’t translate well for rock and blues players. Too bad, because they’re great-looking, great-sounding guitars.
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Howard Roberts and Tommy Tedesco were his mentors; both recognized his extraordinary talent and relentless work ethic.
When L.A. session guitarist Mike Anthony elected to leave the studio life after many years, Tommy Tedesco threw him an unforgettable gala retirement party that was populated by so many guitar greats it was chronicled by a feature article in Guitar Player magazine. Virtually every name guitarist from the L.A studio and jazz scene attended the send-off; the list included old-guard players like Al Hendrickson, Bob Bain, George M. Smith, Bill Pitman, Herb Ellis, Allan Reuss, Tiny Timbrell, Tony Rizzi, Ron Eschete, Dennis Budimir, George Van Eps, and of course Tedesco, while the young lions were represented by Robben Ford, Larry Carlton, Lee Ritenour, Mitch Holder, Grant Geissman, Tim May, Jay Graydon, and Barry Zweig.
“I was a first-Call guy and very fortunate, but it’s a freelance business and I worked my butt off to get there”
A protegé of the great Howard Roberts, Anthony spent decades as a first-call session player and second-generation member of the famed Wrecking Crew, the studio stalwarts who played on countless hit records and TV/radio commercials. For instance, that’s Anthony playing the gorgeous arpeggios on Diana Ross’ hit, “Do You Know Where You’re Going To?” the theme from Mahogany. In addition to TV credits for “The Bob Newhart Show,” “The Brady Bunch,” “Dallas,” “Charlie’s Angels,” “The Flintstones,” “The Carol Burnett Show,” “Happy Days,” and many more, a few of his film credits include Moonraker, Funny Lady, Mahogany, Day of the Locusts, The Fox and the Hound, The Eiger Sanction, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Lady Sings The Blues, The Last Detail, and others. During his studio years, Anthony was also in-demand from Quincy Jones, Tony Bennett, Barbra Streisand, The Fifth Dimension, Frank Sinatra, Nat Cole, J.J. Johnson, and Groove Holmes. And few musicians can cite career highlights that include working with Miles Davis and Luciano Pavarotti.
Today, in addition to concerts that honor other jazz-guitar greats, Anthony teaches jazz guitar at the University of New Mexico and gigs with his acclaimed First Take Trio. In June of 2014, he was honored with a Lifetime Achievement award and another for Best Instrumental Performance from the New Mexico Music Awards.
1) This ’55 Guild X-500 was Anthony’s first professional guitar. 2) Anthony bought this ’47 Gibson L-5 from John Pisano, who used it on Duets with Joe Pass. 3) This late-model L-5 Wes Montgomery L-5 was one of the last made by Gibson’s Custom Shop.
Early Years
In 1955, Anthony’s family settled in California. He attended Van Nuys High School where at 14 he discovered three players – Les Paul, Andres Segovia, and Bo Diddley – who inspired him to consider a career playing guitar. His pursuit was enhanced with lessons from the great Jimmy Wyble.
“In 1959, I started college at age 17,” he said. “I still dug Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley, but through a friend I learned about Howard Roberts, who was playing the cool guitar parts on the TV series ‘The Deputy.’ For the soundtrack, producer Jack Marshall gave Howard free reign to play whatever struck him. By then, I’d decided to study with a studio player; becoming one was my goal, and I contacted Vince Terry at CBS. He told me about Howard, who was so big at the time I thought he’d never be available. I was so lucky to start with him when I was 19.”
Fire in the Studio
“I’d been making my way teaching nearly 60 students a week at Lively Arts Music,” Anthony continued. “One day, I received a call from Howard, who said, ‘Mike, come over. I want to give you an Uncle Howie talk.’ I was 25 at the time, and he asked if my goals were still the same. I said, I want to be a great jazz guitarist and studio musician.
“He said, ‘Number one, you’re ready because you have the talent and qualities for both, but you’re teaching all day. To make the transition, you’re going to have to take a risk because you’ll need to be available. At first, when you get called it’s because they can’t get the regular guys. It’ll be last-minute and you’ll have to be ready because if you’re not, those calls won’t keep coming.’
“I discussed it with my wife, and quit giving lessons. Then, Howard started taking me to sessions. The most memorable was at Capitol Records, when I got to fill in for Bill Pitman and play on Howard’s session. Pete Jolly was on organ, Carol Kaye on bass, Earl Palmer on drums, Larry Bunker on percussion, and Bill on rhythm guitar. I was in the booth and so excited to be there and witness what was going on.”
“From the booth, I saw Billy Pitman approach Howard and they were having a serious conversation. Howard turned and waved me into the studio. He said, ‘Mike, have you got your guitar?’ I don’t know what inspired me to bring it that day, but I had it and my amp in the car. Bill had an emergency; his son was being rushed to the hospital with appendicitis. I ran from my car with my Guild X-500 and a little Fender amp, and my hands were shaking – you can imagine my nerves.
“The first thing they put in front of me was a bass part! I had to double Carol Kaye’s line. The tune was ‘Comin’ Home, Baby,’ which I had to read in bass clef. I got through it with Howard’s help. I also got to play on ‘Danke Schoen.’”
4) 1942 Gibson L-7. 5) Anthony says this ’91 Gibson E S-775 “…has that fat, dark traditional jazz sound.” 6) This ’66 Gibson Johnny Smith has no pickups.
H.R. and Tommy T.
“Another night I was at Howard’s house, playing through the changes of songs he was going to record. His phone rang and I heard him say, ‘No, I have a session that night, but I’ve got a guy here who’s a great player and the new busy guy in town.’
“He totally lied, because I wasn’t doing anything. He asked me, ‘Are you available tomorrow morning?’ That endorsed what he’d told me about being available. Then, he put me on the phone and the guy just wanted me to play jazz chords. It was a dogfood jingle, but I heard it on and off for seven years as a TV and radio spot.
“Tommy Tedesco and Howard respected each other so much, and Howard would sometimes recommend players to Tommy. Once, I had a jingle session where I knew I was going to meet Tommy for the first time. During a break, I went to tell him how much I admired him and he said, ‘Hey, Howard told me about you. You play really great and I’m going to recommend you for some things; I have [Fifty Guitars with Tommy Garrett] coming up. He called me for that, and then I got called for all of them after.”
War Stories
“I once got a call to fill in for Ron Benson, who’d picked up a recording date and asked me to sub for him at Magic Mountain with pianist Roger Williams. I was working with Quincy Jones at the Record Plant that day, but had the evening free. So, when Ron stopped by to deliver the 30 guitar parts, he said, ‘Mike, guard these with your life because there’s no score, just these parts.’ The day comes, and I had a 9 o’clock call at the Record Plant, and had my tux and all my stuff in the car. I drove down Woodman Avenue to the freeway and in my rearview mirror saw all these papers flying all over the street. My first thought was, ‘Some poor slob has lost some important papers.’ Then it hit me – I’d left the charts on the top of my car! I saw one of the charts hit a Mack truck in the windshield, like a scene in a movie, and cars are running over these arrangements. So I got out and risked my life in traffic, but managed to get all 30. I was about 10 minutes late for the session, and they’d called my wife because they were worried about me. I told them what happened and how I was crawling under cars. I was filthy and sweaty at eight in the morning and the charts were covered with tire tracks and grease (laughs).
“That night, I played the gig and didn’t mention it to Ron – I just left the book on the stand. When he showed up the next night, he found it, then called me after to find out how the gig went. For a long time, he didn’t say anything about the charts, and when he finally brought himself to ask, we had a great laugh about it… thank goodness.
“Once, I was working a session for composer and conductor Lalo Schifrin on the show ‘Charlie’s Angels.’ I altered a note on the chart I thought was incorrect. Lalo heard it and chewed me out in front of everybody. He said, ‘Don’t you dare change my composition!’ I got the message. Two weeks later I was working for Marvin Hamlisch, and there’s another note I think is wrong. So, I stop the session to ask. Marvin hit the ceiling and said, ‘Damn… You know your harmony. Stop wasting my time and change the damn thing!’ Sometimes, you just can’t win.
“I also remember a session for Randy Sparks with the folk group the Christy Minstrels. I was playing nylon-string when Randy stopped us and said, ‘Mike, your guitar is squeaking!’ I didn’t know what to say except, ‘Randy, have you ever heard of Segovia?’ He said, ‘Of course.’ I said, ‘Segovia squeaks.’ Randy said, ‘I know Mike, that’s why I hired you!’”
7) ’75 Howard Roberts Custom 8) This 2010 Gibson Pat Martino has an ebony fretboard. 9) Anthony used this ’64 Gibson B-25-12 on cues for the film Lady Sings the Blues. 10) Anthony used this ’65 Ovation DeLuxe for “The Carol Burnett Show” sessions.
“Barney Miller” Theme
“I’m a James Taylor fan and had been listening to his album, Walking Man. I loved a cut called ‘Rock and Roll is Music.’ There’s a musical hook – a vamp over which James is singing, ‘Rock and roll is music…’ I learned it because I liked it so much.
“While doing ‘The Carol Burnett Show,’ we’d play during the breaks between scenes. Sometimes, the conductor would say, ‘Mike, start something funky,’ and I’d use that lick. Bassist Chuck Berghofer said, ‘Show me that so I can double it with you.’ We’d go in on Thursday nights for rehearsal, then pre-record and tape all day Friday. One night, Chuck walked in looking disheveled. I asked what was going on and he said, ‘I just came from a pilot called ‘Barney Miller.’ They had a bass part, but the producer didn’t like it and asked me to create something… All I could think of was that damn riff you showed me.’ And the rest is history (laughs). Chuck was upset because he was afraid of a lawsuit. Fortunately, it never happened.”
Miles Davis
“The great bassist Ray Brown called me for the Monterey Jazz Festival. He’d hired the band and I was honored because I was in my 20s and was there with Ray Brown and Elvin Jones on drums with the Gil Evans Orchestra featuring Miles Davis. We played pieces from Sketches of Spain and I used my X-500. After the concert, we played for a week at Shelly’s Manne-Hole and the Costa Mesa Jazz Festival, with Brazilian singer Astrud Gilberto.
“Gil Evans was also like a mentor; he’d tell me what he wanted but left me a lot of room. This wasn’t long after the Uncle Howie talk and I’d had a tremendous year. Fortunately, Howard saw my potential. Now that I’m older and around younger guys, they can give me a guitar lesson any time. And anything that I have that anyone wants, I’m happy to share. Bob Bain is like that, like Howard and Joe Pass. I could ask them anything.”
Luciano Pavarotti
“For this concert, I recall there was a lot of music but I only had about six charts. There was nothing too complicated – a couple lines here and there, but mostly chords. So I mostly got to jump in and play fills with my ’42 L-7. I’d create lines around the orchestra and Pavarotti evidently liked them. I was sitting in back and he’d often sing his piece then walk back and put his hand on my shoulder. I’m not sure if it was because he liked what I was doing or because we were a mile up and he needed oxygen (laughs). I was in a rented tux with tails and it crossed my mind to never return it because it had been touched by the great Pavarotti.”
Les Paul
“After so many years, I’d never met Les, who was one of my first heroes and major influences. I’d steal his licks and study his stuff. One day, I was talking to Howard Alden and mentioned that I’d never met Les. I knew that Howard would sometimes sub for Les’ rhythm player, Lou Pallo. Howard said, ‘Mike, you’ve got to make the pilgrimage.’ So in the summer of 2007 I made reservations for the Iridium Club in New York City. In fact, weeks in advance I started calling so many times the guy answering said, ‘Let me guess, this is Mike Anthony.’ Well, that guy advised us to show up two hours early. So, Kathie and I were second in line and got a table right by the stage. I was already happy, but Les’ bassist, Nicki Parrott, asked if I was Mike Anthony and invited me backstage after the show. She said, ‘Howard Alden told us all about you.’ Les and I talked for a long time and I was in heaven. He said, ‘I hear you’re a studio guitarist in L.A. Do you know Bob Bain?’ I practically laughed out loud because I’m such close friends with Bob.”
“We had so many mutual friends – Howard Roberts, Pat Martino, Vic Juris, and so on. Then he said, ‘Are you pretty good?’ I said ‘Well, I think I am.’ He asked if I was going to stay for the second show, so his assistant gave me a guitar that had rubber bands for strings and nothing like what I play but that was okay. We played ‘What Is This Thing Called Love?’ I started out with a vamp and got everyone going. Get a groove going on and you’re in. And that was a night I’ll never forget.”
11) This 2001 Eastman Uptown has a 17″ lower bout. 12) ’74 Martin 000-28. 13) 1990 Takamine Hirade. 14) For Anthony’s first studio lesson with Tommy Tedesco, he showed up with this Fender plectrum banjo tuned DGBD (low to high). “Tommy laughed at me and suggested I tune it like a guitar. He said, ‘All they want is the sound.’”
Diana Sings the Blues
Anthony worked the Diana Ross film Lady Sings the Blues.
“That was with Michel Legrand at Paramount, and later, I got a call for a session for Ross’ film, Mahogany. It was for the song, ‘Do You Know Where You’re Going To?’ I was told by the session bassist, Rheiny Press, that I was following a succession of major studio guitarists including Tommy Tedesco and Larry Carlton and 12 or 15 other guys, and to not feel bad if I got sent home. But I did what I did and the producer, Michael Masser, really liked it.
“My part wasn’t written out. All I had were chord charts and I was to play what I thought fit. I used my Ovation steel-string to ad lib the fills. The song was nominated for an Academy Award and hit #1 on the Billboard charts.”
This late-’60s ES-345 was modifed by luthier John Carruthers to remove the stereo wiring and was used on “The Carol Burnett Show,” “The Flintstones,” and almost all of Anthony’s movie sessions.
Philosophy and Accolades
One of Anthony’s most-cherished memories is of Joe Pass inviting him to jam. Any jazz guitarist knows that’s a tribute in itself.
“Joe and I were at MGM playing for a film,” he said. “Toward the end, Joe invited me to his place in Woodland Hills, and we spent the rest of the afternoon jamming. It basically amounted to him giving me a free lesson. We talked a lot about picking technique, because everything Joe played sounded so crisp. And believe me, I’ve spent a lot of time evaluating picking philosophies.
“I once asked Howard (Roberts) which way I should play something, and he said, ‘Mike, you’ve got 10 fingers, six strings, and a pick. Leave no stone unturned.’ That was immensely powerful to me and I always pass that philosophy on to students.
“I was a first-call guy and very fortunate, but it’s a freelance business and I worked my butt off to get there. In the big city, though, a lot of guys get to a very high level, so luck is as important as skill.”
Session great Tim May once said of Anthony, “Every time I see Mike, he’s on to something new, musically. He just keeps progressing and creating interesting things. And he somehow maintains the enthusiasm we had when we were teenagers. He’s like Bob Bain in that way. Bob is always eager to learn something new or pass along what he knows.”
Perhaps the great Howard Roberts, at one of his seminars, said it best many years ago; “Mike Anthony is always in there, scratching. He’s one of the busiest and best guitar players in the business.”
That’s an endorsement any pro guitar player would envy.
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
1963 Watkins Dominator • Preamp tubes: three ECC83/12AX7 • Output tubes: two EL84 • Rectifier: EZ81 • Controls: Volume and Tone switch for Mic channel; Volume, Tone, Tremolo, Speed, and Depth for Guitar channel • Output: approximately 17 watts RMS • Speaker: two 10″ Elac Alnico-magnet drivers Amp courtesy of Marcel Cavallé. Photos by Andrea Nieto.
Is there any more stylish vintage amp than the V-front Watkins Dominator? This creation is delightfully twee yet utterly enticing – the allure of its blue-and-cream Rexine covering, gold-threaded grillecloth, and thrusting wedge aesthetics virtually irresistible – and it screams from an age when rock and roll was barely a big-stage event in Britain.
Looks aside, the Dominator was the flagship of a pioneering maker who, like Leo Fender in California a few years earlier, was one of the first to address the needs of a new breed of guitarist. And if the industry was on the cusp of a revolution, guitarists still owed thanks to Watkins for helping them reach this point.
Accordionist-turned-entrepreneur Tom Jennings and his company, Jennings Musical Instruments (JMI), had been in the musical-instrument game for a short time and had yet to begin thinking in terms of the electric guitar when another accordionist, Charlie Watkins, was seeing potential in this new instrument. After returning from service in the Merchant Navy, Watkins, a native of Balham, in Southeast London, made a living for a time playing the accordion in small bands. As with so many musicians, however, he eventually saw the need for a “proper job.”
In 1949, he opened a record shop with his brother, Reg, in London’s Tooting Market. In ’51, they moved to a slightly larger premises in Balham, where they also sold accordions and other instruments. Watkins cast a keen eye on the guitar’s potential insurgence while sympathizing with his fellow musicians’ inability to be heard amid the noise of horns and accordions. As he told Sound On Sound’s Gary Cooper in an interview that wasn’t published until after his death in 2015, “I thought, ‘I’ve put up with that long enough, I can do something about that; I’ll make an amplifier.’”
The Dominator’s twin 10″ Elac speakers are mounted on individual baffles, aimed outward for broader sound dispersion.
The first Watkins amps were built by local electronics jobbers. Like many others of the day, they were able to run on domestic AC or DC current; if used incorrectly, however, they could be extremely dangerous, even deadly.
“I’d sold about 20 of them by 1952, when one day I saw a piece in the Daily Mirror about a pop-group guitarist getting killed,” Watkins told David Petersen in an interview for The Guitar Magazine in May of 2000. “Being a fatalist, I thought, ‘It’s bound to be one of my amps’ – those AC/DC units were quite dangerous. I sent a telegram to the guy who was making them for me and got him to stop immediately. Somehow, I managed to recall all those I’d sold and replaced them with safe AC-only units.”
The scare put Watkins off the amplifier game for a time, but the need remained for a reliable (and louder) electric guitar, as one skiffle musician after another kept coming to the Balham shop.
Watkins returned to the venture in the mid ’50s by commissioning an AC-powered combo sold as the Westminster, which generated about 10 watts through a single 10″ Elac speaker. For ’56, the Westminster was briefly given a larger V-front cabinet, but by ’57 that format was exclusive to the new Dominator (the Westminster having returned to a more-standard rectangular cab). The new Dominator had two 10″ Elac speakers angled outward for enhanced dispersion, two channels – one for microphone, one for guitar (with tremolo), and a pair of EL84 output tubes to generate 17 watts – as much as a guitarist was likely to need at the time.
Watkins’ amps were generally more rough-hewn than those from competitors like Vox, Selmer, and (soon) Marshall, but a look inside this Dominator reveals it’s rather nicely put together. Components include a handful of the “mustard caps” enthusiasts drool over in vintage Vox and Marshall amps, while other parts are generally of good quality. Charlie Watkins’ desire to save a penny is well-documented, though, and a budget-friendly production ethos is evident; the main circuit board is an early printed type (PCB), and the first two preamp tubes are loaded onto their own printed board. Make no mistake, though, this is still very much a hand-wired amp; its components are in line with those employed by makers using turret and tag boards.
Owner Marcel Cavallé tells us the amp has a truly British sound.
“The mids and highs are sparkly clean, with warmth and depth,” he said. “Push the volume and you still have control, with a clear, round tone; and if you play with attack, the amp responds with a gratifying growl. It also has a fantastic tremolo that washes over you as you play.”
The V-front baffles do throw sound at an impressively wide angle, though there can also be a gap in its soundstage directly in front. Cavallé had the large filter caps replaced and installed some new tubes. The footswitch jack has been replaced by a toggle, for ease of selecting the tremolo effect. Otherwise, this beauty is delightfully original and impressively clean.
A couple years after its creation, Charlie Watkins removed his surname from the amps in favor of the acronym WEM – Watkins Electronic Music – which he felt more closely resembled the popular Vox logo. Around the same time, Watkins moved the Dominator into a more-sedate rectangular cab and would eventually remove tremolo from its feature set.
Into the ’70s, iterations of WEM’s cornerstone amp remained good-sounding, fun, and today are reasonably affordable. None, however, are as collectible as the stunning, angular original.
Its early-style printed circuit board is impressively clean and original.The Dominator’s control panel, with inputs along its rear edge for mic and guitar channels (tremolo on the latter).
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Recognized worldwide as a master technician, southpaw shredder Jimi Bell first received widespread notoriety for his role sharing a nightclub stage with Joan Jett in the 1986 film Light of Day, which starred Michael J. Fox. His lightning-fast picking then got him an invitation to audition for Ozzy Osbourne, where he was edged out by Zakk Wylde. Swinging to another branch of the Black Sabbath family tree, he joined bassist Geezer Butler’s solo band. For that project that he wrote “Master of Insanity,” which was used on Sabbath’s 1992 album, Dehumanizer.
After several national and European tours, Bell joined the melodic hard-rock band House of Lords in 2005, put together by Gene Simmons, and subsequently has recorded six albums with them. The band is writing and recording a seventh, tentatively titled Saint of the Lost Souls.
Going back, what initially drew you to music, and how old were you when you started playing guitar?
After trying several instruments, I became a drummer from the age of 10 until I was 13, when I won a scholarship from the Hartford (Connecticut) Conservatory. While in junior high, I jammed with some high-school friends. The guitar player left his Guild Starfire, Heathkit amp, and his Big Muff at my house. I decided to try his guitar through the Big Muff. At that moment, I instantly fell in love with the guitar.
Who were your big influences back then?
Definitely Johnny Winter’s Live And album with Rick Derringer… it just blew my mind. I kept playing the song “It’s My Own Fault” over and over again. Johnny had so much fire and speed, I thought that was what it meant to be a good guitar player – you had to be fast. Of course, that changed later on for me. I also dug the Grand Funk live album. I then discovered Deep Purple and became a huge Ritchie Blackmore fan. After that, I started listening to a lot of guitar players. In the end, my guitar style was derived from Johnny Winter, Ritchie Blackmore, and Al DiMeola, whom I discovered later on.
Do you remember your first good electric guitar and amp setup?
I went to see Chuck Berry at the Bushnell Auditorium, and when I got home, my dad had brought a semi-hollow Ovation Eclipse and an Ovation Dude amplifier. Being a Blackmore fan, I decided that I needed a Strat, so on my first trip to 48th Street in New York, I bought one – a lefty ’70s sunburst. It was wired as a righty, so the pots worked opposite of how they should have. I got so used to this, and later ended up reversing the wires on other lefty instruments I got. At the time, I also got a 50-watt Marshall Mk II half-stack which I’d overdrive with a Hawk booster. Shortly after, I got my first Gibson SG, which ended up being my main instrument for the next 10 years.
What are some of your favorite guitars in your arsenal?
In the ’80s, I had a full Kramer endorsement, and also really got into Flying Vs, Explorers, SGs, and Les Pauls. Lately, I’ve been using custom-built guitars by Dale Roberts, of Jacksonville. I also own three beautiful great Gretsch guitars.
What is your go-to guitar-and-amp rig these days for live work?
When I’m on tour, I use the Dale Roberts guitars exclusively. Amp wise, I request a Marshall DSL100 or TSL100. I have three stompboxes on the floor… never rack gear.
Tell us about the band and the new album. How did you go about putting the guitar parts together?
In 2005, after years of inactivity, House of Lords singer James Christian approached me about putting the band back together and writing melodic rock music. Of course I said “yes,” even though I never had done so before. For every album, I first present 15 to 20 song ideas to (drummer) B.J. Zampa, and he helps with the arrangements. Then, the songs get sent to James, where he decides which ones are best for the band. James then develops the melody lines and lyrics, and depending on the song, I might add finishing touches.
Where can folks see House of Lords live?
The band tours Europe all the time and has done Loud Park, the biggest festival in Japan. But we do have plans to do more shows in the U.S.
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Many know Dana Sutcliffe from his classic guitar design, the Alvarez Dana Scoop produced from the late 1980s through the early ’90s. But most are likely unaware that today he runs a top-notch repair/restoration shop, Dana Sound Research (DSR), just outside Wilmington, Delaware.
Did playing or working on guitars come first?
Playing the guitar. I was actually a piano player from age 5 and just transposed the piano over to guitar. I still see piano keys when I play the guitar. It’s nuts!
When did you first start working with guitars?
I bought a four-pickup Lafayette Radio guitar in 1967 – yes, four pickups! When I soon after got a Univox bass amp, I realized the pickups weren’t so great. I applied my experience rewinding HO-scale slot car armatures to rewinding the pickups. They were very powerful, but they were microphonic as hell. But, I didn’t care – I was 13!
How did you get into guitar repair?
My dad was building dreadnoughts in his garage and that gave me the bug. I eventually did some electronics work for John Marshall, who in ’78 hired me to work at Renaissance Guitars. There, I learned everything about guitar construction. John was a perfectionist and instilled that in me. After Renaissance, I did music-store repairs until I started Guitar Repair Company in ’83, which was very successful. That’s where the first Dana guitars were born, including the Detonator Pickup and DSR5 circuit. I started doing custom work for national acts including George Thorogood. We serviced, built, and rebuilt 14 white ES-125s and all of his amplifiers. George’s taught me how to work with the preferences of other artist techs.
How did you join St. Louis Music (SLM)?
In 1985-’86, we began teaching the sales rep for SLM, who was not a musician, how to set up Crate amps for his customers using Dana guitars. He’d write down the settings and go off to his store clients, but the amps never sounded the same. He’d actually get mad at me! So, we better explained pickups and electronics, and he brought our designs to the attention of Tom Presley, Westone’s product manager, and by ’87, several Westone Dana models were being produced. I started DSR, which owned Dana, as a trademark and the patent on the Scoop, both of which I licensed to SLM.
How do you approach restoration?
I do everything according to historic protocol. I approach each instrument or amplifier as it was built. Unless there’s a factory error, I restore the instrument to original condition. If finishes are destroyed and bare wood is exposed, I have an array of cosmetic epoxies, varnish mixes, and lacquers. I also have a huge amount of old-wood resources around the country in case something really catastrophic comes in.
We keep everything extremely neat and tidy for a woodworking shop. It has a radiant humidity room, which is crucial for bringing dried instruments back to life. It’s always crowded. The buffing, sanding, sawing, and drilling are all done in a sealed, enclosed room with proprietary ventilation on all the machines. There’s also a sanding box to keep dust to minimum. Two of my building neighbors are a jewelry artisan and a cabinet maker, which is a blessing because I can do tricky metal restorations on 100-year-old tailpieces, and if we need anything unusual done to a piece of wood, the machine to do it is right next door!
What is most satisfying about what you do?
I love bringing instruments back from the dead so you can’t tell what condition they were in, originally. And, the art is never dull; no instrument or tube amp is identically the same.
I also really enjoy making demanding clients happy by making all their instruments perform with the consistency they want. I’m very lucky to have found talented apprentices who are sacrificing a great deal to learn the art of musical instrument restoration and repair.
What’s the story on your Dana Scoop reissues?
Right now, I have a monthly budget for buying original parts and whole instruments whenever possible. If the bodies don’t need re-painting, we wet-sand and buff them to be brighter than the original. We re-fret necks and apply the original Dana logo. If the electronics are original, I upgrade the pots and circuit, and I pot the pickups. If the electronics aren’t original, then I install USA pickups that are similar to the original Dana pickups, and I still have DSR5 mid-boost units available. Otherwise, I try and keep everything stock. Scoops are really increasing in value these days, so there’s plenty of demand for these resuscitated guitars.
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
One of the most-influential guitarists to emerge from Boston, Jon Butcher has just released his 14th album, 2Roads East.
Wecaught up with Butcher as he prepared to tour.
2Roads East is perhaps the most reflective and soul-oriented thing you’ve done. It’s a “song” album with great guitar as opposed to a pure guitar album. The arrangements are well-conceived, with plenty of air to make it sonically pleasing. What inspired you to take this route?
Initially, I thought I was going to make a different record, containing songs like “Brontosaurus” (the only instrumental on the album). My initial thought was, “I can blaze runs over some blues or whatever,” but then it hit me… I didn’t want to do that. I wrote five or six songs in that vibe, but it just wasn’t satisfying. So, I discarded them and started telling my own story, trying to find my own truth. And the truth is, songs matter. The lyrics on these songs are photographs from my life. I can’t explain why that happened, I was just trying to write something that I believed, that was at the least true for me. From that point on, it was a natural process.
You’ve long been associated with the Fender Stratocaster. When did that fascination develop?
It happened even before Jimi Hendrix, though Jimi reinvented the Stratocaster. I liked its shape and I like lightweight guitars because I think they resonate better. And, single-coil pickups provide more nuance than humbuckers, in my experience. You have to work a little harder on a Strat to coax sounds from it, but it’s worth it.
Many musicians are trying to figure out how to make a living in this post-Napster world, yet you’ve thrived with your music company, Electric Factory X, which you started in 1991. How did that happen?
I realized a number of years ago that being “Jon Butcher, guitar player” had a limited shelf life because unless you’re Eric Clapton or Jeff Beck, it’s incumbent upon you to expand your horizons and see yourself in broader terms. For most musicians these days, how to make a living in the present landscape with the lack of record sales is a great challenge. That dawned on me in the ’90s, so I started doing music production for TV and movies. I’ve spent the last 18 years building my company and doing productions for Showtime, HBO, and the TV networks, starting with the series “Ugly Betty.” I find the work really gratifying. The most important thing now is that my company becomes a platform which allows me to do things that are bigger than me, like producing new talent.
The track “Madness” has what sounds like a resonator guitar. What is that?
Yes, it’s a National round-neck that I borrowed from a friend, combined with a five-string banjo to give the song its retro voice. I don’t think any real banjo player has to fear for me (laughs), but I was able to coax something out of it.
What were your go-to guitars and amps on the album?
I used a ’63 Fender Stratocaster that weighs 6.5 pounds – a true beauty. But I also have an ’03 Bill Nash in Olympic White that I’ve taken around the world, it looks like a vintage guitar, though the wear is all mine! That’s my go-to.
One of my all-time favorite amps is a tweed Fender Blues Junior modded years ago by my friend, Bob Dettorre – re-tubed with EL84s and a Celestion Vintage 30. He took an off-the-rack amp and made it into a powerhouse, a beast. I wouldn’t sell that for 10 times what I paid. I also used a ’62 Bassman and a ’65 Vibrolux. Live, I use a ’69 Marshall 100-watt Super Lead, a couple of Marshall ’59 Super Lead plexis, and a mix of 4×12 cabs.
How about effects? There’s wah on “Power of Soul” and a few others, along with some delay and what sounds like an octaver on the title track…
I used an old Vox wah modded by Kyle Chase, as well as a Boss DD-20 delay, a Fulltone Ultimate Octave , a Rimrock Mythical Overdrive which is terrific, a Landgraff MO-D distortion, and a Jim Klacik Unique-Vibe, which is a Uni-Vibe clone.
There’s a beautiful Spanish-sounding acoustic trading licks with an electric on “Dust.” What were you playing on that?
That’s an old nylon-string Ramirez. I’m trading licks with my buddy, Tomo Fujita, who was playing an ES-335 on that track.
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
After a decade pushing his craft to new creative realms, Dallas-based guitarist Andy Timmons is once again purveying original instrumental guitar rock. His 2006 album, Resolution, was his band’s last in that style, and the ensuing 10 years saw him record fusion albums with drummer Simon Phillips along with an acclaimed instrumental version of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. His new effort is Theme from a Perfect World.
“It’s hard to believe it’s been 10 years,” Timmons recently told VG. “I’m never really out of the instrumental songwriting mode, it just took a while to get back to the studio.”
Timmons used a plethora of vintage instruments on the album, and likened selecting them to trying different vocalists.
“The main guitar is essentially singing the melody, and we had a great time auditioning ‘singers’ for each song. We tried different guitars until we found one that best suited each song,” he said. “A lot of the songs were written on my ’94 AT100 prototype from Ibanez, so that guitar is on several songs.”
The lineup is impressive. Fenders included a ’65 Strat, a 1960 hardtail Strat, Teles from ’67 and ’68, and a ’68 Jaguar. Gibsons were a ’57 J-45, an ’85 Hummingbird, an early-’90s Les Paul, and a Pete Townshend signature SG. Other brands and models included a ’66 Rickenbacker 330/12, a ’66 Mosrite Ventures Model, and an early-’90s Martin D-28.
Theme from a Perfect World doesn’t contain jamming or show-offy guitar races, but all have a complete feel, implying they were written “all the way through,” but with allowance for improvising.
“There wasn’t a conscious move in that direction,” Timmons averred. “It just seems the songs were the focus, and if the arrangement didn’t require a solo then that’s the direction we went. Early in my career, I may have been more concerned about demonstrating my abilities on the instrument, but I’ve always been equally aware of the necessity of a good song first and foremost. Now, I’m most interested in presenting the song in the best way possible regardless of the guitar prowess utilized in the process.”
While there are plenty of powerhouse riffs on the album, several tracks open with ethereal passages before cranking up. Of particular note is “Sanctuary,” which has an intro that almost sounds like a new-age piano.
“That’s one of my favorite tones on the record!” said Timmons. “That’s my white AT100 signature guitar with the Wilkinson bridge set up to float slightly; I’m normally an “on the deck” guy, running through two Mesa Boogie Lone Star 1×12 combo amps split in stereo via a Strymon Timeline delay. I’m also hitting the front end of the amp with my signature Carl Martin compressor, mainly using it as a significant boost without much compression. There’s no reverb, just the lovely delay with a bit of modulation on the repeats.”
The title track has several different guitar tones and tempo changes.
“The main chordal theme of the song – I guess you could call it the chorus – is completely inspired by all things Todd Rundgren. His sense of chord work and melody has always intrigued and inspired me. I also imagined this chord sequence in the chorus as something like ‘Court Of The Crimson King’ and originally thought we might employ a Mellotron to beef-up the sound, as on the King Crimson classic, but a Hammond B3 ended up winning that role. The arrangement – and title – is very much inspired by ‘Utopia Theme’ from the first Utopia record. It’s like Mahavishnu goes pop! It took us a while to find the right tone for the song but it’s mainly a Gibson Pete Townsend SG Special with .012s, except for the second verse melody, which is the ’65 Strat.”
Timmons was asked about the passage on the album in which he takes the most pride in having created.
“That would have to be the solo and bridge of ‘Winterland’,” he said. “It has a nice energy, is very melodic and leads into the bridge, which has a great, emotional feel to it.”
The guitarist also plans on continuing to write and record guitar music.
“That’s something I really appreciate about instrumental music,” he reflected. “Listeners are free to attach their own meaning or feeling to it.”
And it won’t be another decade before the Andy Timmons Band releases another instrumental album.
“I am always documenting song ideas and filing them away for later,” Timmons said. “My intention is to massively trim down my outside musical projects and focus entirely on my own music.”
This article originally appeared in VG March 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
With progressive-rock juggernaut Emerson, Lake & Palmer, bassist/vocalist Greg Lake (1947-2016) played more than one instrument made by the renowned British luthier Tony Zemaitis.
Weighing an impressive 17.2 pounds, it has earned the title “heavy,” whether in a literal sense or in figurative reference to the bombastic music it helped make with Emerson, Lake & Palmer. Following the tradition of star guitars that develop a daedal history is lore about how this one apparently used to top the scales a pound heavier. The story goes that Tony Z. tried to dissuade Lake from ordering it, saying it would be too heavy. Lake insisted, however, then later decided Zemaitis was right and had portions “trimmed” by another luthier. After learning of the alteration, Zemaitis never spoke to Lake again. When asked about it in 2006, Lake did not confirm or deny the events, but said he never had a problem with Tony.
“This amp has the unique and rare features of the very first brown Fender amps, such as the rough pink-brown Tolex, tweed-era grillecloth, light-brown faceplate with matching color in the flat logo tail, center-mounted Volume controls, RCA speaker plug, and mysterious Pulse-Adjust [on the back panel] with a plugged hole.”
What was your first gig with it?
“It’s nice and light…” he thought to himself, noting its fast action, but the frets were worn and its pickups were weak and noisy. Long story, short? It needed work.
H.R. and Tommy T.
In 1949, he opened a record shop with his brother, Reg, in London’s Tooting Market. In ’51, they moved to a slightly larger premises in Balham, where they also sold accordions and other instruments. Watkins cast a keen eye on the guitar’s potential insurgence while sympathizing with his fellow musicians’ inability to be heard amid the noise of horns and accordions. As he told Sound On Sound’s Gary Cooper in an interview that wasn’t published until after his death in 2015, “I thought, ‘I’ve put up with that long enough, I can do something about that; I’ll make an amplifier.’”
Many know Dana Sutcliffe from his classic guitar design, the Alvarez Dana Scoop produced from the late 1980s through the early ’90s. But most are likely unaware that today he runs a top-notch repair/restoration shop, Dana Sound Research (DSR), just outside Wilmington, Delaware.
