Tag: features

  • Marshall Amplifiers

    Marshall Amplifiers

    VG Overdrive is sponsored by Mojotone

    PART ONE: The Birth of the Marshall

    Pete Townshend once told an interviewer that when The Who first formed, he saw the guitar very much as a weapon. Long before it had a name, he was looking for shock and awe. And he found the man willing to supply it – Jim Marshall.

    One day in 1965, Townshend went to Marshall’s music store in London, threw down his Marshall JTM 45, and said, “I want that, twice as loud.”

    And almost like Krups, the military manufacturer, Marshall’s eyes sort of lit up and he said, “I’ll supply this man with the weapon he requires.”

    And from that, Townshend says, came the Marshall stack and the big amplifiers of the ’60s.

    Marshall 04
    Jim Marshall in 1972 with his line of equipment. Photo courtesy of Marshall

    Pete has long been an embellisher of stories, and what actually transpired probably wasn’t exactly like that. But there’s no doubt the Marshall stack would come to dominate the sound of rock and roll, beginning with that fateful day.

    Of course, it’s easy to think of Marshall amps starting with the famous stack, but Jim Marshall had been building separate heads and speakers (and later, combo amps) since the early ’60s. Marshall’s original inspiration was the Fender Bassman, which may have been a difficult amp for the average guitarist to obtain in England in the early ’60s, when the nation was still in the throes of post-World War II rationing (as Dave Marsh wrote in Before I Get Old, the sharply dressed “Mods” The Who modeled themselves after, and in fact, Townshend’s equipment-smashing routine itself, were manifestations of the lifting of the rationing).

    Bettering The Bassman
    In July, 1960, Marshall, having developed his reputation as a regularly gigging drummer and drum teacher, opened a musical equipment store at 76 Uxbridge Road in the Hanwell section of West London, which would come to be frequented by some of England’s top guitarists.

    At the time, Marshall says that most felt the Fender Bassman was the amplifier to beat – but it wasn’t perfect.

    “Players like Pete Townshend, Ritchie Blackmore and ‘Big’ Jim Sullivan (one of the busiest session guitarists in England) pointed out to me, that although they used the Fender, it didn’t produce the sound they wanted. So they described the sound they were looking for to me. And that’s how the JTM 45 came to be.”

    That the sound of the Marshall amp would come out of the Bassman isn’t all that surprising, as it’s not too difficult to compare Jim Marshall to Leo Fender. Neither man was a guitarist, but each made his career as an entrepreneur who was willing to listen very, very carefully to their guitar-playing customers, and give them what they wanted.

    “I liked the sound of the Fender,” said Marshall. “In fact, it was my favorite guitar amplifier at that time without a doubt. But it wasn’t the sound the boys described to me… it wasn’t the sound I heard in my head.”

    Getting the sound Marshall heard in his head required a considerable amount of experimentation.

    “My repairman, Ken Bran, had a young assistant named Dudley Craven, and he was the chap who managed to put what I was hearing in my head into an amplifier,” Marshall adds. “Dudley was a brilliant engineer who used to work as an apprentice for EMI, and I more than doubled his wages so he’d help us build our first rock and roll amplifier.

    “Dudley made five amps for me, one after the other, and I turned them all down because they didn’t have the sound I was after. Then he made number six; and that did it – that’s the one that had the sound I had in my mind that the players had put to me. The players must’ve agreed, too, because when we put number six in the store in September 1962, we sold 23 that very first day!”

    Marshall 01

    1 A late-’60s JMP SLP 100 half-stack in red tolex and basket weave grillecloth.

    2 A late-’60s JMP Super Lead head and Model 1960A cab (with “100” logo) in white tolex.

    3 1962 JTM 45 offset prototype, atop an early-’60s 2×12 PA cab with matching “coffin” logo.

    4 A 1964 JTM 45 Mk II head with Model 1984 4×12 cab.

    “Number six” was a 35-watt head whose circuitry closely resembled the Fender Bassman. The difference in sound was, “…the harmonics of the valves – or ‘tubes’ as you call them in America – when they’re driven in a certain, special way… along with certain things we do within our amplifiers that we do not discuss!”

    For those who wish to compare the differences between the first Marshall amp and the Fender Bassman, Mike Doyle’s The History of Marshall compares the circuitry of each amp design, in-depth.

    Of course, for Marshall (and the guitarists who purchased his equipment) the “feel” of the amps was – and is – as important as their technical specs. Nick Bowcott, Marshall’s product manager for Korg USA, says that whenever there’s a design session for a new Marshall amp, “One of the questions always asked is ‘How does the amp feel to you?’”

    Bowcott is a fine guitarist himself.

    “Let’s be honest,” he says. “We’ve all plugged into amps that sounded great but felt wrong because they didn’t react or ‘give’ in a way that you like. An amp isn’t just there to make sound, it’s an instrument in its own right, so its playability is every bit as important as that of a guitar… in my humble opinion, anyway!”

    It also didn’t hurt that Marshall combined his early amps with cabinets containing four 12″ Celestion speakers, a classic combination that endures to this day. “Number six” became known as the JTM 45, named after Jim and his son, Terry.

    Breaking the Blues
    While Marshall continued to offer the JTM 45 head through 1966 (it’s been reissued since 1989), he also offered it as part of a combo amp, with a pair of built-in 12″ speakers, and dubbed the model 1962.
    “I put it in a combo originally for Eric Clapton, who used to practice in my shop and one day he asked if I could build him a combo version of the JTM 45 so it’d be easy for him to get into the boot [trunk] of his car. So I did, and that’s how the Bluesbreaker combo came about.”

    Its sound, of course, would be heard on the landmark 1966 John Mayall album, Blues Breakers With Eric Clapton, as Clapton created the definitive electric blues guitar sound, mating a 1960 Les Paul with a Marshall model number 1962 combo amp. Eventually, the album would make the guitar, the guitarist, and his amplifier all legendary.

    Indeed, the Marshall 1962 would come to be known simply as “The Bluesbreaker” amp. While the distorted sound of the Les Paul with humbucking pickups played through a Marshall disturbed some purists in the mid ’60s, ironically, the man the guitar is named for was firmly nonplussed.

    “That fuzzy sound didn’t surprise me at all,” Les Paul told Guitar World in March of 1983. “I’ve always been one to spread out and go where angels fear to tread… so if Eric Clapton came along, used one of my instruments to get a big fat sound, I’ve got nothing but admiration for him. In some cases it didn’t sound too pleasing, but in most cases it was very interesting.”

    Despite having the success of the JTM 45, the 1962, and their variants for PA and bass work, Jim Marshall continued to operate his retail music store, added a second store in March of 1963, and ultimately owned several retail music stores in England.

    “In fact, I didn’t get out of retail until 1979!” he says.

    The second store was necessary, because “My first music shop in Hanwell, London, became the place where the amplifiers were built by Dudley and Ken, while I did all the chassis work, cabinet-building, and that sort of thing in the back of my other shop, as there was more space there. The trouble was, all my drum-teaching studios were in the back of that place too, so it got quite cramped in there at times!”

    Marshall 02

    5 A rare “NARB” chassis, built in the mid 1960s and named after Marshall builder Ken Bran in an effort to skirt the company‘s distribution deal.

    6 1967 20-watt PA head.

    The Who: Maximum R&B
    Amplifiers, of course, radically changed when The Who began to make their mark on the London music scene. In 1964, John Entwistle was already using a JTM 45 connected to a pair of side-by-side 4×12 cabinets for his bass guitar. Townshend wanted something similar, not just for louder volume, but for more controlled feedback. He used a JTM 45 himself for a time that same year, but ultimately, both men decided it just wasn’t powerful enough to blast over both Keith Moon and the audience.

    Marshall 05
    Jim Marshall. Photo courtesy of Marshall.

    A glimpse of the future was offered when Townshend placed his 4×12 cabinet (driven by the ubiquitous Bassman) on a metal stand, putting the speakers in line with his guitar’s pickups, and allowing for controlled feedback – an increasingly popular technique amongst British guitarists.

    The solution was a 100-watt amp for each player, but many amp manufacturers were afraid that the internal circuitry of such a powerful amp would simply melt from the heat. One exception was Vox, in an arms race of its own to produce equipment powerful enough to blast out over the screaming crowds faced by the Beatles. And in fact, Entwistle and Townshend did try a pair of Vox AC100s for a time in mid 1965, but were dissatisfied with their sound.

    On the fateful day he entered Marshall’s music store, Townshend had another unusual request for Marshall. To accompany his 100-watt amplifiers, he wanted cabinets that each contained eight 12″ speakers!

    “I told him I could, but warned him that an 8×12 cabinet would be terribly heavy and that his roadies would be bloody furious at him,” Marshall says. “I suggested putting an angled 4×12 cabinet on top of a straight one instead, but he was having none of it.”

    “Sod my roadies!” was Townshend’s reply. “That’s what they’re paid for!”

    So Marshall dutifully built him three 100-watt heads and three 8×12 cabinets, “And sure enough, a few weeks later he came back and said, ‘You’re right, these 8×12 cabs are too heavy! Could you cut them in half and make me two 4x12s that stack like you originally suggested?’

    “Well, I couldn’t literally saw his cabinets in half because of the way they were constructed so I said, ‘Leave them with me, Pete. I’ll sort them out.’”

    Marshall would ultimately make only six monsterous 8×12 cabinets, with four going to The Who and two to the Small Faces.

    It’s significant to note that Marshall had the idea for the angled top of the speaker stack, even with the 8x12s. According to Nick Bowcott, Marshall chose the design as much for aesthetics as the sound. With the angled speaker cabinet, the top of the cabinet naturally tapers into the amp head above it, unlike when it’s placed on a conventional cabinet. Marshall looked at those and said, “Just doesn’t look designed – it looks like a small box on top of a bigger one!”

    Marshall 03

    7 Mid-’60s Super Tremolo Mk IV with white panel and rare grey Bluesbreaker“ grillecloth.

    8 1964 “Bluesbreaker” combo.

    91967 JTM 45 Mk IV “Bluesbreaker” combo.

    While the visual aspect was certainly pleasing, he was very happy that several players told him that the angle of the top of the cabinet helped to project the two speakers into the ears of the guitarist, allowing them to better hear their guitars over a thundering drummer.

    Townshend and Entwistle bought the first four Marshall 100-watt heads, at £160 each. Besides the sheer power of the amps driving eight speakers (and eventually 16, as double stacks quickly became de rigueur in hard rock), the stack also made for an impressive visual look, one that would ultimately dominate hard rock: in most early Who photos, the two are seen in many shots backing Roger Daltry, each with two Marshall 100-watt amps and four 4×12 cabinets, with Keith Moon flailing away between them.

    Marshall 06
    Jim Marshall’s first music store, at 76 Uxbridge Road, Hanwell, London. Photo courtesy of Marshall.

    Now that’s an intimidating backline!

    In late 1965, production versions of this “stack” followed, known as the Marshall 1959 100-watt amplifer, the Marshall 1960A (angled-front top) and 1960B (flat-front bottom).

    Curiously, Townshend’s Marshalls almost always had built-in tremolo circuits, which were never all that popular in the Marshall line and according to Doyle was dropped as an option in 1973.

    Jim Marshall Gets Experienced
    When Jimi Hendrix arrived in England in 1966, he was ready to add the look and sounds of England’s top rock groups (such as The Who, Cream and The Yardbirds) to his own R&B-influenced playing.

    Ironically, Hendrix’s newly drafted English drummer, Mitch Mitchell, once worked in Marshall’s shop and received drum lessons from James Marshall. And Hendrix’s real full name was James Marshall Hendrix.

    All of which made Marshall stacks for Hendrix and bassist Noel Redding a natural. Over 35 years since Hendrix’s debut on Are You Experienced?, Jim Marshall still counts him as his favorite client, and greatest ambassador.

    “Jimi was definitely number one, without any doubt, and it’s a shame he died so young because I don’t think he’d reached anything like his peak.”

    Curiously, at least one of Hendrix’s Marshalls may have been acquired by another famous guitarist with a similar first name and a love of Marshalls – Jimmy Page.

    In interviews, Page has said that one of his amps– serial #A10053 – may have been used by Hendrix at his the Isle of Wight concert in August of 1970, not long before he passed away. In the July ’86 issue of Guitar World, Page’s guitar tech boasted that this 100-watt head had 180 watts of power when fully cranked.

    The basic design of the Marshall would continue, with numerous variations, including a master volume model until 1981, when the JCM 800 series was introduced, timed to coincide with the end of their contract with the Rose-Morris Co. Ltd., their original worldwide distributor.

    This would be the first of several significant changes in Marshall’s lineup in the 1980s and ’90s, which we’ll look at in part two.

    PART TWO: The ’80s, ’90s, and Today

    10 Marshall Mode Four. 11 The JCM 800 series carried the scorch in the ’80s. 12 The first artist signature amp – the Slash model 2555.

    “When I was in my teens, and my band started venturing out of our home town, I didn’t feel I could be taken seriously until I got my first Marshall.”

    Nick Bowcott may be a bit biased, given his position as Marshall’s Product Manager for Korg, but most players can relate to his sentiment.

    “It was almost a status symbol,” he said. “It was like I was saying to the audience, ‘Okay, I’ve arrived. I’m serious.’

    “In my mind, to this day there’s nothing like seeing a band, and the first thing that hits you is a wall of Marshalls. That has always been synonymous with the sort of music I like – and great tone. It speaks volumes without a single note being played, because it’s such a powerful visual statement.”

    What was Bowcott’s first Marshall?

    “A 50-watt JCM800 2204 – an amp I still have and is actually spittin’ distance from me in our sound room here at Korg. I still use it as a sonic reference, because it’s something I grew up with, and it still sounds amazing.”

    Marshall’s reputation for sound was furthered by the image a stack of its amps made onstage. In part two of our look back at Marshall amps, we let Bowcott and Jim Marshall detail how the company has remained atop the amplifier “stack.”

    JCM800 – Flagship For The ’80s
    Marshall’s JCM 800 series grew out of the company leaving what it describes as “the stranglehold” of distributor Rose-Morris in early 1981.

    Sensing it was time to shake things up, company founder and president Jim Marshall created a new line of amplifiers whose name derived from the license plate of his Jaguar, and his own initials – James Charles Marshall: JCM 800.

    “I wanted a new name for the amps, but every idea we came up with was dreadful,” Jim recalls with a chuckle. “And then, one day, I looked at the plate on my car and immediately thought, ‘That’s it – that’s what we’ll use.’

    “And the amusing thing is, it was staring me right in the face me all along!”

    The initial JCM 800s were mostly a cosmetic redesign of Marshall’s existing amps, namely the Master Volume and Super Lead. A big plus, however, was a redesign of the combo amps, placing the controls in the front of the amp (similar to Fender’s placement of its combo amp controls since the 1950s) rather than in the top rear portion, as they were for years on such classic amps as Marshall’s model 1962 “Bluesbreaker” combo.

    Eventually of course, the JCM 800 line was replaced by newer models, with the first being the JCM 900 series in 1990, kicked off with a humorous series of ads featuring Christopher Guest’s Nigel Tufnel character from the “mockumentary” This Is Spinal Tap. But during its initial run in the ’80s, the JCM 800 series proved quite a success.

    The Anniversary Amps
    In 1982, to celebrate Marshall’s 20 years in the amplifier business, a limited edition series of the JCM 800s were available in swanky white-colored vinyl, instead of the more traditional somber-looking black.

    Similarly, in 1987, to celebrate his 50 years in music and 25 years of building amps, Marshall released an anniversary series dubbed the Silver Jubilee line. The exterior of these amps used (appropriately enough) silver-colored vinyl and chrome control panels. They were based on the 2203 and 2204 models in the JCM800 line but with a twist; these amps featured a switch that could split their output in half for greater distortion at quieter volumes. Thus, the model 2555 could go from 100 to 50 watts, and the rest of the amps in the series could go from 50 to 25 watts.

    Marshall 08

    13 The model 5005 Lead 12 was small, but guitarists love its warm tone.

    14 The Silver Jubilee version of the 3005 Micro-Stack.

    15 The hard-to-find “plexi” version of the 3005 Micro-Stack.

    The 2555 proved popular with a number of high-flying rockers, including Slash of Guns ‘N’ Roses fame, who became the first player to have his signature on a Marshall when the limited edition 2555 Slash signature model was released in ’96.

    Finally, in ’92, Marshall released its 30th Anniversary amps – the 100-watt 6100 head and 100-watt 1×12″ 6101 combo. Driven by 11 tubes (seven 12AX7s and four EL34s) these three-channel amps were loaded with a plethora of features, including MIDI channel switching and four power stage options.

    The first 800 anniversary amps were not only covered in blue vinyl, but boasted a brass-plated chassis.

    Lead 12: The Little Screamer
    Greater distortion at low volumes was also the goal of one of the most interesting amps Marshall released in the early ’80s – the model 5005 Lead 12.

    A 12-watt transistor practice amp with a 10″ Celestion, it retailed for under $200 and for many came surprisingly close to capturing the great, warm sound of the distorted Marshall amps of years gone by. It was a favorite of many working musicians, including luminaries like Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top.

    The Lead 12 proved to be enough of a hit with consumers that Marshall has continued to make transistor mini-amps. The ’80s and early ’90s saw the introduction of the tiny one-watt MS-2, the popular 3005 solidstate Micro-Stack (based on the 5005), and the 10-watt 8001 Valvestate Micro-Stack (part of a series of Marshall amps launched in ’91 where all models with 40 watts or more used a 12AX7 tube in their preamps, to drive a solidstate power stage designed to sound and feel like an all-tube power amp), as well as numerous more high-powered combo amps, and even separate transistorized heads.

    Solidstate: Maximum Crunch
    What are Jim Marshall’s favorite solidstate amps?

    “Without a doubt, our current MG line,” he says. “This range was developed from our successful Valvestate series of hybrid (tube preamp/solidstate power amp)amps.

    “Our new hybrid AVT (Advanced Valvestate Technology) amps and the new Mode Four will also stand the test of time. The Valvestate and MG amps have made it possible for a lot of youngsters to have a Marshall as their very first amp, because they’re a lot cheaper than all-valve (tube) amps.”

    “The essence of Marshall is, has, and always will be the all-tube stuff,” adds Bowcott, summing up Marshall’s excursions into transistor and Valvestate amps. “I love the sound of an all-tube amp like a 2203, 1959SLP, or DSL100. There’s something very raw and organic about it; it reaches out and punches you in the chest.

    “We live in a weird and wonderful time, where technology is king and people want and expect more for less. You can buy a DVD player for 60 bucks, which even a few years ago would’ve been considered unbelievable. Guitar players are interesting beasts and there’s a new generation out there who view amps differently. They have a certain tone they want to achieve and they don’t really care how it’s created – they’re not caught up in that ‘It has to be an all-tube signal path and point-to-point wired or it’ll suck’ mentality… unlike many of their fathers!”

    Mode Four: Marshall for the 21st Century
    In early 2003, Marshall again introduced a new amp design, the hybrid Mode Four. Visually, the most obvious difference between the Mode Four head and its predecessors is its rakish-looking grill, fanning out in a V shape under the Marshall logo. Ads describe it as “…a state of the art, 350-watt, four-mode monster offering more gain, more low-end rumble, and more headroom than ever before,” as well as “an amazing clean sound and those classic crunch tones.”

    The current Marshall line also includes its MG series of solidstate amps, the Vintage Series, which includes reissues of the legendary 1962 Bluesbreaker combo and the classic JCM800 2203 and JTM45 heads.

    If forced to name just one amplifier that definies the Marshall sound – and the beginning of the company’s legacy – Jim Marshall says he’d pick the JTM45.

    “In the early days, they were built purely for rock and roll. So to that end, to my ears, the complex and musical overdriven sound of the JTM45 – the first amp we ever built back in 1962 – is the essence of the ‘Marshall sound’ because that’s where it all started.”

    But he is quick to point out there’s far more than just one “Marshall sound.”

    “These days, the amps are capable of literally doing any type of music – from very heavy rock to even jazz and country.”

    Bowcott agrees.

    “Jim makes a great point – what the typical Marshall sound is really does depend on the listener!

    “A fan of ’70s British blues rock might cite Paul Kossoff’s edgy, organic sound as typical Marshall or Clapton’s quintessential ‘woman tone.’ Others might hear it as AC/DC’s cleaner-than-you-think rhythm and bruise, Edward Van Halen’s jaw-dropping classic ‘brown sound,’ the raw, brutal roar of the rhythm work of Kerry King of Slayer, Zakk Wylde’s fat, woody overdrive, the singing sustain of a Joe Satriani or Slash, or the crushing crunch of modern players like Wayne Static (Static-X), Stef Carpenter (Deftones), Daron Malakian (System Of A Down), or Mike Mushok (Staind).

    “As the saying goes, ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ Likewise, the typical Marshall amp sound is in the head and ears of the listener.”

    Or, as Jeff Beck said in a recent tribute to Jim on his 40th anniversary as Britain’s best amplifier manufacturer, “It’s all your fault!”


    Ed Driscoll is a freelance journalist who has written about technology, business, and the arts for numerous publications. In his spare time, he’s a guitarist and songwriter who enjoys recording on his PC. His website is eddriscoll.com.


    This article originally appeared in VG September and October 2003 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


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  • Martin D-28 and D-45

    Martin D-28 and D-45

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    Prior to World War II, only three dreadnought guitars were featured in the Martin catalog – the D-18, D-28, and D-45. The two with rosewood back and sides, the 28 and 45, have both been inducted into the Vintage Guitar magazine Hall of Fame.

    A 1941 Martin D-28. All photos courtesy of Gruhn Guitars.

    Dreadnought-sized guitars were first made by Martin for the Oliver Ditson Company, a retail and wholesale distributor with outlets in Boston and New York. The Ditson Company distributed instruments made for them by several different makers, however, those most prized today are the ones made by C.F. Martin. Ditson had Martin produce a variety of models, including ukuleles, mandolins, and guitars. The Ditson/Martin guitars and ukes featured a distinctive body shape with a less pinched-in waist than standard Martins and had distinctive Ditson-style soundhole rosettes. The dreadnought shape is actually very much in line with the typical Ditson specifications.

    Ditson guitars made by Martin were offered in three body sizes, each available in three levels of ornamentation. All featured 12-fret necks with slotted pegheads, so dreadnoughts were essentially the same size and shape as the modern 12-fret style D guitars. The smaller Ditsons, and even the ukuleles, looked very much like miniature versions of the 12-fret D-sized instruments.

    The first of the Ditson/Martin dreadnoughts were produced in 1916. These earliest instruments had fan bracing very much like a classical guitar. Subsequent Ditson/Martin dreadnoughts had X bracing. Ditson-style dreadnoughts were discontinued after January ’21, however, in June ’23 the company asked Martin to begin production again on the style 111 mahogany dreadnought guitar. Between then and ’30, 19 more of this style were produced. Martin-made Ditson dreadnoughts are extremely scarce. Although Mike Longworth’s research of Martin records reveals seven of the style 111 mahogany dreadnoughts and seven of the style 222 early dreadnoughts, as well as his statement that 19 111s were produced between ’23 and ’30, these instruments are so scarce I have personally seen only three. While they obviously had little direct impact on the market due to the fact they are so scarce they have not been used by many musicians, these instruments are historically very important as the first dreadnought Martin guitars and as the inspiration for Martin to produce subsequent dreadnoughts under their own name.

    1931 marked the introduction of Martin brand D-sized guitars. Previous Ditson models did not have a “D” designation. Rather than stamping the neck block “0000,” which seemed awkward, the ’31 models were named after the largest British battleship, the Dreadnought, hence the “D” stamp. Two models were offered, the D-1 equivalent to a 12-fret D-18, and the D-2 equivalent to the 12-fret D-28. These are extremely scarce instruments. Longworth’s research indicates only two D-1s were produced in ’31, and none after that, whereas he shows four D-2s in ’31, two in ’32, and one in ’34. The best-known D-2 is one made for the performer known as “Arkie” the Arkansas wood chopper who performed on WLS radio in Chicago. This guitar is inlaid “Arkie” on the fingerboard and is now on display at the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville.

    A 1935 Martin D-45.

    In ’31, Martin issued the first guitars stamped with the designations D-18 and D-28. Martin records indicate production totals as: D-18 – ’31 one, ’32 three, ’33 nine, and; D-28 – ’31 one, ’32 four, ’33 12. There is essentially no difference in specs between an early D-1 and D-18 or between the D-2 and an early 12-fret D-28. The 12-fret dreadnought guitars from this period were considered experimental. They were not offered in the Martin catalog.

    In ’34, Martin altered the specifications of the dreadnought guitars to the 14-fret version with the body style still in production today. The 14-fret specs were in line with changes taking place throughout Martin production. The OM models with 14-fret neck first introduced in late ’29 had become so popular Martin decided to utilize this basic design throughout much of its model line. The ’34 14-fret D-18 and D-28 were the first dreadnought guitars featured in Martin catalogs.

    The pre-WWII D-18s and D-28s conformed to typical Martin specs of the period. Early ’34 models were fitted with bar frets and had an ebony reinforcement in the neck rather than a steel T bar. By the end of ’34, specs on dreadnoughts and other models were altered to feature a steel T bar reinforcement in the neck and modern-style frets. The ornamentation of the pre WWII D-18 conforms to the typical specifications of the style 18 models throughout the Martin line with mahogany neck, back, and sides, Adirondak spruce top with scalloped bracing, ebony fingerboard and bridge, and dark body bindings, whereas the style 28 similarly conforms to standard 28-style specifications of the period with Brazilian rosewood back, sides, and peghead veneer, mahogany neck, Adirondak spruce top with herringbone trim and scalloped bracing, ebony fingerboard with slotted diamond inlays, “zipper”-style backstripe and white ivoroid body bindings.

    In mid ’39, Martin altered neck dimensions and narrowed the string spacing on all 14-fret models and altered the position of braces from the so-called “high X” pattern to the “low X” pattern in which the juncture of the main X is further from the soundhole. In late ’44, scalloping of the bracing was discontinued and the fingerboard inlays were changed from slotted diamonds to small dots. In ’46, Martin continued to use herringbone trim on the tops. However, they altered the specifications from Adirondak spruce to Sitka spruce and larger dots were used on the fingerboards. After the first production run in ’47, herringbone trim was discontinued and the D-28 guitars subsequent to that time were bound in the standard post-WWII style. The D-18s underwent the same changes in neck dimensions, string spacing, and bracing as the D-28s. D-18s continued to feature ebony fingerboards through ’46, whereas other style 18s had gone to rosewood fingerboards as of about ’40.

    The first D-45 (serial number 53177) was made for Gene Autry in ’33 as a custom order. It features a 12-fret slothead neck with the typical Martin torch inlay used on early style 45s, and has the “Gene Autry” inlaid on the fingerboard. This instrument is now on display at the Gene Autry Museum of Western Heritage in Los Angeles. A second 12-fret D-45 was made in ’34 for a performer named Jackie “Kid” Moore in Milwaukee. It has a solid peghead. Another solid-peghead 12-fret D-45 was produced as a custom order in ’37. While these are obviously exceedingly scarce instruments, all three have survived and have been carefully examined by knowledgable professionals.

    In ’36, two 16 ¼" are at least strongly influenced by the Martin originals.

    Pre-WWII Martin D-28 and D-45 models richly deserve a place in the Vintage Guitar magazine Hall of Fame.

    And the D-18, though less ornamented, should be viewed on par with the other two. Many fine musicians have found the mahogany back and sides of the style 18 produces an extremely fine midrange sound often deemed superior in the studio to rosewood instruments, which tend to have more “boom” and rumble.

    D-18s from the 1930s are incredibly fine instruments that compare favorably to similarly-aged D-28s and D-45s in tone, volume, and projection. Although they are less elaborately ornamented, they are beautifully crafted, wonderfully functional musical instruments deserving of attention from the most discriminating players.


    This article originally appeared in VG April 2000 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


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  • Andrew Hendryx – Lesson #2: “Wish You Were Here” on a mandolin

    Andrew Hendryx – Lesson #2: “Wish You Were Here” on a mandolin

    Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” on Mandolin
    Andrew Hendryx returns with his Collings MF5, this time demonstrating how to play the Pink Floyd classic “Wish You Were Here” on mandolin. Keep up with Andrew at www.andrewhendryx.com.


    See more lessons, VG adds new lessons monthly!

  • The Voxmobile

    The Voxmobile

    VG Overdrive is sponsored by Reverb’s Free Pedal Friday – ENTER TO WIN!
    Voxmobile/Kevin Ryan photos: Ward Mahanke, courtesy K. Ryan. Voxmobile archive photos courtesy Brett Barris/Barris Kustom Industries.

    Man, those were the days! Free love, slick guitars, hot cars – and hey, you didn’t even have to worry about seatbelts, fuel consumption, or emissions standards. How cool is that? Okay, maybe we should have worried a little more about one or two things, but the gear looked good, anyway, and few pieces of pop culture were anywhere near as hip and groovy as the Voxmobile.

    This tricked-out custom hot rod was built in 1967 by George Barris, “King of the Kustomizers,” best known for his rolling works of art such as the Batmobile, the Munster Koach, the Monkey Mobile, the General Lee, and other custom cars seen on TV and in the movies in the ’60s and ’70s. With its blend of Brit-beat swing and hot rod shwang, however, the Voxmobile is bound to land atop any guitar fiend’s list of slickest street rods. Beneath its world’s-fastest-guitar exterior hides a bundle of surprises.

    If the Voxmobile looks a little familiar, there’s a good chance you once caught a glimpse of it in a former life, in one of its many TV appearances on shows such as “Groovy,” “Where the Action Is,” or “Dialing For Dollars,” or on the lobby card for the 1968 Jack Nicholson movie Psych-Out. But for the past couple of decades, rather than cruising the events and parades at which this promotional vehicle was intended to shine, or glistening in an automotive museum, the Voxmobile has been languishing largely out of the public eye. Thanks to the efforts of a pair of Denver ’60s-o-philes, however, who saved it from obscurity in cold storage, the plan is afoot to reintroduce this one-off wonder to society.

    Barris took this shot of the car with Jimmy Bryant. Another from this shoot was used on the cover of Bryant’s “Fastest Guitar in the Country” album.
    The Wing-Bat prototype atop the vehicle that inspired it.

    Barris, Hallmark Collaborate On Custom Instruments

    George Barris is continuing his association with instrument builders via collaboration with Hallmark Guitars, which is building guitars based on classic Barris models that appeared on TV and in the movies in the ’60s.

    “I have always been a huge fan of George’s work,” said luthier and Hallmark owner Bob Shade. “I hand-built some unique and crazy one-of-a-kind guitars for artists, celebrities, and myself. And I’ve always loved wild cars. If you think about custom-car builders and custom-guitar builders, they’re not all that different from each other. So my thought was simply, ‘Why not combine the two?’”

    Bob Shade, Billy F Gibbons, and George Barris with prototypes of the Dragula, Barris Krest, and Wing-Bat models.

    The company is making the Wing-Bat model, inspired by the Barris’ Batmobile from the “Batman” TV series (replete with “turbine”), as well as the Barris Krest model, symbol of the builder’s creations.

    “When I went to visit Mr. Barris the second time, I thought to myself, ‘What can I take him as a gift?” said Shade. “I built him a guitar made with his crest as the body. He loved it and thought car enthusiasts would like it. So we decided to offer a production version.”

    Adam West, who played Batman on the classic ’60s series, shows the Wing-Bat to a young fan.

    In line for the not-too-distant future are the Fireball 500 (a nod to a ’66 Plymouth Barracuda that appeared in the 1966 movie of that title and starring Frankie Avalon, Annette Funicello, and Fabian), and the Dragula guitar, which complements the Casket Car from The Munsters, with casket-style decorations. Down the road, the company plans to build instruments inspired by the Munster Koach, as well as other models inspired by classic movies and TV shows. Instruments will have custom-wound pickups, Shade’s needle-bearing vibrato, and a stay-in-tune roller bridge.

    Veterans from the classic TV shows that inspired some of the models have checked out the new Hallmarks. In ’08, Adam West (Batman), Julie Newmar (Catwoman), and Butch Patrick (Eddie Munster) appeared at Barris events, where the prototypes were displayed next to Barris’ creations, including Batmobile number seven. The celebs autographed the instruments, and one Hallmark/Barris instrument autographed by the TV stars and other performers raised $7,000 to benefit the Jesse’s Journey charity foundation.

    Notable musicians have also signed on to a recording effort (scheduled for release in the first quarter of ’09) that will feature Hallmark instruments. Participants include Larry Collins (who has ordered a twin-neck Fireball 500) Deke Dickerson, Eddie Angel, and the Ghastly Ones, among others. – Willie G. Moseley | Photos: John Lackey.


    For more, visit hallmarkguitars.com.

    Kevin Ryan is a guitarist, vintage dealer, and car fanatic who left the corporate world in 2002 to pursue the trading game full-time. And, having recently been tipped off to the availability of this rare prize, he couldn’t resist the temptation to bring all his stars into alignment in one rumbling, roaring bundle of love and – along with friend Brian Brock – to acquire the Voxmobile and restore it to its former glory.

    “Actually, the car was around Denver for many, many years,” says Ryan. “There used to be a music store called Strings and Things, on Colfax Avenue, and the owner had the car in there. I’d see it all the time in there. You’d see it, buy your strings, and walk away.” Ryan recalls the Voxmobile showing up in Denver in the early ’80s, but its transition from So-Cal custom street rod to Colorado guitar store novelty display follows a winding yet guitar-star-studded road.

    Barris conceived the Voxmobile in 1967 after being approached by Vox to create a promotional vehicle that would be part two-seater roadster and part Vox amplifier. “I remember the Voxmobile well,” said Barris, 84, from the North Hollywood location of Barris Kustom Industries. “The head of Vox at the time was a very promotional-minded guy, so this was major challenge for us. The exciting part about it was that we made it functional. Not only was it a drivable rod, but it was a musical drivable rod. It was fully functional both as a hot rod and as a Vox amp, with the organ built in and the guitars attached.”

    George Barris (middle) with Warren Hampton (far left), Vox’s national promo director, company president Joseph Benaron (second from right), and engineer Stan Cutler.

    The build cost $30,000 (“that’s close to $200,000 in today’s dollars,” Ryan points out), and Vox set about getting its money’s worth by dragging the car round to concerts, parades, and other functions in the late ’60s and early ’70s, as well as booking it for appearances on the big and small screens. “I’ve seen pictures of the Strawberry Alarm Clock standing on it,” says Ryan. “They were appearing on ‘Groovy,’ and it looks like they’re plugged into the amps and playing.” It also appears on an episode of “The Beverly Hillbillies” in which Jethro befriends a band that uses it. Some years later, though, Vox apparently sold the vehicle to Denver music store Strings and Things, where it sat in dry dock for three and a half decades. After the death of the store’s owner, Ryan and Brock negotiated acquisition of the car, and its restoration is now underway.

    Promo photo for an episode of George Barris’ car show. The band is most likely members of the Strawberry Alarm Clock.
    The first design concept and ideas presented to Vox by George Barris. As he obtained the instruments from Vox, Barris made design changes to accommodate them, and ultimately decided to make the body look more like a guitar, with actual strings.

    The large-scale replica Vox Phantom guitars on the sides of the roadster are perhaps its most notable visual feature, but a lot more genuine Vox product is literally hiding under the hood. “On the passenger side you’re looking right at the control panel of a Super Beatle amplifier,” says Ryan, “That’s the brain that handled everything. Behind the seat there’s a Super Beatle, and underneath that are the guts of two more Super Beatles. You plug into them via an array of 32 jacks mounted along the top edges of the display guitars on the sides.” Being products of 1967, these are the solidstate Super Beatles made for Vox in California by Thomas Organ, probably a good thing considering what that hot-rod suspension might do to all those tubes in four valve-based British Super Beatles! To belt it all out, there are five 12″ silver-frame Celestion G12 speakers secreted around the body of the car, one 18″ Celestion woofer, and four tweeters, not including the six speakers connected to the Muntz 8-track player mounted under the dash – handy for those moments when you don’t have a full band hanging on the built-in chrome running boards to keep the party in full swing.

    More than just the amps, though, there’s a full, two-tiered Vox Super Continental organ built into the back, and the Voxmobile originally had fully playable Phantom VI and Phantom IV bass guitars mounted at the sides of the tail section, though it appears they’ve flown off down the road many years ago. “I don’t remember ever seeing the guitars on there, other than in old photos,” says Ryan. “But I have my eye out for replacements. I did have a friend who is a Vox organ fanatic come over the other day, and I said, ‘We’re going to plug this in. What’s your best bet? Does it work?’ He gave it a 10 percent chance of working. But we plugged it in, switched it on, and it works perfectly – and sounds great!” The Super Beatle amps themselves will need a little more attention. Ryan says the wiring was reduced to a spaghetti junction of a mess after some previous owner tried to correct a short, but he has isolated all of the speakers and tested them, and they’re all working perfectly. The guitar jacks are all still wired and functional.

    Barris (left) with Hampton, Les Tomkins (automotive engineer/Barris’ right-hand man), and Cutler at Barris’ shop in North Hollywood. “The guitar shape was made out of wood, then coated in fiberglass and resin and finished with the same material as the rest of the car,” Barris recalled.

    And the car itself? Ohhh, the car… stand back, hot rod fans, because this unsafe-at-any-speed concoction of a roadster is almost back and ready to rumble. Given the full Cali-mod treatment by Barris back in ’68, it features a tubular chassis and a body formed of metal tubing and wood with a fiberglass skin. Appointments include pleated Masland Duran black vinyl interior, Muton fur carpeting (as Barris famously installed in a car he built for Sonny and Cher), Radar wheels, and 30 coats of metalflake Fire Red and White Pearl paint. The beating heart is a souped-up Ford Cobra 289 – the same engine used in the early AC Cobras… Entirely class A, of course, with no negative feedback!

    Kevin Ryan with the Voxmobile.

    “The specs said it could do 175 miles per hour,” Ryan relates. “But there’s no speedometer and no odometer. Since it was built for Vox, and Jimmy Bryant was then an endorsee and considered ‘the world’s fastest guitarist,’ Barris made it the world’s fastest guitar car.

    “Everyone who sees it wants to take it out, and I just say, ‘Uhhh, no,’” adds Ryan, with a laugh. “But I’ll tell you what, it’s running great. We pulled it out of the garage the other day, got some oil back into it, took the covers off the headers, fired it up, and woke up the neighborhood! It sounds phenomenal. It needs a little TLC before it’ll be safe to take on the road, but the engine is in great condition.”

    Eventually, Ryan and Brock plan to put the Voxmobile on the market after full restoration, which will include reapplying the airbrushed Vox logos to the bodies and headstocks of the giant “guitars” (purportedly fully playable when tuned up), as well as rewiring the amps and getting the engine and drive train up to snuff, but he’s already conceding that it won’t be easy to part with. “Oh, man, I’m going to miss it when it goes. It’s just so cool.”


    For more info on the car, both historic and current, go to voxmobile.com and barris.com. Special thanks to Deke Dickerson and Del Casher.


    This article originally appeared in VG April 2009 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


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  • A Guide to Vintage Dobros

    A Guide to Vintage Dobros

    VG Overdrive is sponsored by Mojotone
    Single-Cyclops Model 27, 1932.

    When John Dopyera stormed out of the National shop in January 1929, his resignation stemmed from more than a spur-of-the-moment tantrum. For months the inventor of the resonator guitar spent his evenings and weekends working with his brother, Rudy, on a secret project – a single-cone guitar they believed superior to the National Triolian. They called their new instrument the Dobro.

    The Triolian’s bridge sat in a round wooden “biscuit” mounted in the center of a metal amplifying cone. John Dopyera developed the biscuit-bridge system for use in a ukulele, but felt the design did not sustain well enough when enlarged for a guitar. National’s president, George Beauchamp, overruled Dopyera and rushed the Triolian into production in late 1928. Beauchamp and Dopyera had been rubbing each other the wrong way for some time, and this came as the last straw. John and his brothers decided to split from National.

    The Dopyeras turned the resonator upside-down and modified its V shape into a W, connected to the bridge by a long screw through the center. A radiating spider carried the sound from the bridge to the edges of the cone. Without a block of wood choking it, the inverted resonator vibrated freely and sustained notes longer than the biscuit-bridge cone.
    Rudy and Emil (later called Ed) Dopyera left National soon after John.

    The brothers named their new company Dobro (a shortened version of Dopyera Brothers). The word also meant “good” in their native Slovak language. Emil, the salesman, showed the prototype guitar to dealers in southern California and took the first orders. Two other brothers, Louis and Bob, helped finance the venture. In the spring of ’29 Dobro started production in the back room of Russell Plating Company. Within a few months the company moved to a new brick factory at 727 East 62nd Street in Los Angeles.

    A Regal-made Model 19, with poinsettia coverplate and a Gumby-shaped headstock with drum veneer and stenciled “Gretsch,” mid ’30s.

    Dobro’s model numbers corresponded to list prices in a system that has long confused collectors. Because prices changed from year to year, guitars changed model numbers, and the same model number may have applied to several different guitars. For instance, 1929’s Model 45 was a dark, unbound student guitar, 1932’s Model 45 was a bound single-screenhole “Cyclops,” and by late ’33 the Model 45 was a spruce-top with two screenholes. This was not a progression of the same basic guitar. These were Dobro guitars that in those particular years carried a list price of $45. It was not a good system, and the company stuck it with until production ceased at the dawn of World War II.

    Dobro’s original 1929 line included the unbound student Model 45, the Standard Model 55 with a bound fretboard, the two-tone French scroll carved (actually sandblasted) Model 65 with a bound ebony fretboard, the Professional Model 85 with a triple-bound mahogany body, and the Model 125 “De Luxe” with a walnut body and four-way matched back.

    Custom Dobro guitars with gold-plated, engraved hardware and fancy inlay cost from $175 to $250. Round or square necks were available on all models.

    Dobro also made mandolins, ukuleles, and “Tenortrope” banjo-guitars with round wooden bodies. By ’31 Dobro introduced the Model 50 tenor guitar, with a bound fretboard and a mandolin-size resonator in a guitar-size body.

    Dobro started its serial numbers around 800. Later in the ’30s Regal in Chicago confused things by numbering a run of Dobros across the same range.

    An early California instrument can be identified by square slot-ends in the headstock, coverplate screws in the points of numbers on a clock, and the lack of a dot at the 17th fret. The dot at the 17th fret was added in late 1930. By 1933 Dobro moved the screws to the half-hour points so a repairman could open a guitar without removing the tailpiece.

    In ’32 Dobro modified its guitar line, with new model numbers ending in six instead of five. The unbound student guitar, its hardware painted silver instead of plated, dropped in price to become the Model 36. The Model 55 became the Model 56 (some ads specified hardware plated with nickel instead of chrome). The scrollwork Model 60 evolved into two styles: the Model 66, with a fretboard of red bean wood, and the Model 66-B, with a bound body.

    A Regal-made Model 27 squareneck, bound front and back, 1937.

    Dobro introduced the Model 76, with a bound birch body and inlaid celluloid trademark, but made few of them. The Model 85 became the Model 86, with engraving added on the coverplate. Dobro’s Model 106 was a walnut guitar with a two-way matched back. The Model 156 was walnut with an inlaid fretboard and gold plating. Dobro’s tenor guitar came in three models, the 50, 75, and 100, with details corresponding to the Models 56, 76, and 106.

    On the extreme high end was Dobro’s Model 206, with a spruce top, walnut back and sides, gold-plated and engraved hardware, and five-ply binding with a layer of gold sparkle in the center. Dobro made few Model 206 guitars – John Dopyera said no more than 12 or 15 – as showpieces for trade shows or by special order. Only three are known to exist today.

    By this time the Great Depression had kicked into high gear.

    Gold-plated guitars were hard to sell to people having trouble putting food on the table. Most of Dobro’s sales were in the lower end of the scale. To increase sales, Dobro had to make some even cheaper by simplifying the design and omitting some features.

    In 1932, Dobro introduced a line of single-screenhole guitars, today known as the Cyclops instruments, which required less hardware and labor.

    The least expensive was the Model 27, with an unbound body stained, painted silver, or brushed with a faux wood grain. Some ’33 square-necks had their frets painted on. The Model 45 Cyclops had a bound body with a rosewood finish. The Model 60 Cyclops had the same “carved” scrollwork and binding as the 66-B.

    In mid ’33 Dobro replaced the Cyclops guitar’s full-sized screenhole with two smaller ones joined in a single frame. No model numbers for the double-Cyclops guitars have come to light, but there are two distinct styles. Some have no binding on the body, and others have ivoroid binding around the top and fretboard. Some double-Cyclops guitars, especially those sold through Montgomery Ward under the brand name Magno-Tone, have coverplates with radiating slots in a design called the poinsettia. Most of the double-Cyclops guitars date to ’33 and ’34, but Dobro apparently made a few as late as ’36.

    California Dobro-made guitars appeared under a variety of brand names in the early 1930s, sold either through catalogs or by private music studios (guitar schools). Dobro often economized on guitars carrying other brands by installing no soundwells under the resonators or by cutting f-holes instead of installing screens. According to Emil Dopyera, part of the thinking was that if a guitar did not have the Dobro emblem it should not have the full Dobro sound. Budget Dobro guitars were sold under such brands as Hawaiian Radio-Tone, Michigan Music, Rex, and others. Emil later said, “If we got an order for 100 guitars with a special coverplate for a little less money, we did it.”

    Model 45, mid-1930s.

    In Dobro’s 5,000-square-foot factory the production of guitar bodies was limited by space. According to John Dopyera, in about 1931 Dobro bought a shipment of guitar bodies from Regal, in Chicago. Dobro assembled between 60 and 100 guitars with Regal-made bodies in its Los Angeles factory before deciding that shipping the bodies from Illinois was too expensive, especially if Dobro had to send the finished guitars back to Chicago for distribution. So the Dopyeras decided to ship the metal parts east and let a Midwestern company assemble some guitars, as National already did with Harmony.

    Gibson expressed interest in the deal, but their representative made no effort to hide his opinion that the Dobro was not a real guitar, but a gimmick. The brothers took offense at what they called Gibson’s “holier-than-thou” attitude. They decided to go with Regal, which at that time was producing its own line of guitars as well as Lyon and Healy and Washburn instruments. Dobro and Regal divided the U.S. into two territories, with the Mississippi River as the center line; Dobro would sell to jobbers in the West, Regal in the East.

    The first Regal-made Dobros reached the market by the summer or fall of ’32. In January ’33, Regal announced in Musical Merchandise its own line of ampliphonic instruments built with Dobro parts. Regal made identical guitars under both the Dobro and Regal brands. Dobro in Los Angeles skipped over most of the 4000s in their serial numbering, reserving those numbers for Regal-made Dobros. Regal Dobros of the mid ’30s are most easily recognizable by their round slot ends extending straight through the headstock.

    In 1933, Dobro introduced one of the first electric guitars. George Beauchamp’s and Adolph Ricken-bacher’s Electro frypan appeared in late 1932, but in Seattle a musician named Paul Tutmarc had been selling electric guitars under the name Audiovox since 1931. Dobro employee Victor Smith claimed he had been working on an electric guitar as early as 1929. Art Stimson, who had worked with Tutmarc, came to Los Angeles and told the Dopyeras the Audiovox pickup was his own invention. He sold them all rights for $600.

    1933’s Dobro All-Electric looked something like a standard Dobro with a bound mahogany body. But its coverplate had no holes and was engraved with lightning bolts. Two pickup blades rose through a slot in the coverplate, one under the three bass strings and one under the treble.

    Underneath the coverplate the blades connected to a large horseshoe magnet and a heavy transformer.

    In 1934 Dobro combined the pickup with a resonator in a bound mahogany guitar. A horseshoe magnet was mounted inside the back, and the pickup blades rose on stems through holes in the resonator. According to John Dopyera, all but one of these guitars were returned to the factory for refunds because their owners didn’t understand how to use them. Only one, serial number 6845, is known today.

    The first Dobro coverplate. Rudy Dopyera hammered it out over a sandbag and cut the holes with a jewelry saw.

    At the 1934 NAMM show Dobro presented a revamped line of guitars, mandolins, and ukuleles. The shift from the old line was gradual, with some of the new models produced as early as 1933. By mid ’34 all previous models were discontinued. Because the mid ’30s were Dobro’s peak production years, the new line contained what are today the best known prewar Dobro models. All these guitars had bodies roughly 3 ½" deep at the butt, where earlier Dobros had measured closer to 3 ¼".

    The Model 19 was Dobro’s cheapest resonator guitar – so cheap that it didn’t carry the Dobro emblem. Its decal said, “The Angelus, a Dobro Product.” It had no soundwell and smooth-sided f-holes instead of screenholes. The Angelus coverplate had a simple design of 12 round holes at the clock points.

    The birch Model 27 proved Dobro’s biggest seller and remained popular through the decades. This was the model played on the Grand Ole’ Opry in the post-war years by both Bashful Brother Oswald and Josh Graves. In the ’70s, Jerry Douglas made his mark playing a Regal-built Model 27. Modern dealers and collectors usually identify a Model 27 as having binding on the top only, but rare early examples had no binding at all and most Regal-made Model 27s were bound top and back. The true identifying mark of a Model 27 is its lack of the three holes under the strings between the screenholes, an economy suggested by Regal and adopted by Dobro (Regal apparently never liked bothering with the three holes and even on high-end models never beveled the edges, as Dobro did). Many players hold that omitting the three holes improved the sound of the Model 27.

    Dobro’s 1934 line included the Model 37, with a mahogany body bound top and back and along the fretboard, the Model 45, with a spruce top and mahogany back and sides, the Model 60, its scrollwork “carved” in a new pattern with a more prominent letter “D” on the back, and the walnut Model 100. Dobro in California marketed some budget flat-tops with trapeze tailpieces and 14-fret Spanish necks, using the name Dobro Jr. Regal produced only the Models 19, 27, 37, and 45, by far the more common models.

    Both Dobro and Regal built tenor guitars with full-size resonators, shortened bodies and 14-fret necks. Dobro called theirs the 37T and 45T, with details corresponding to the Model 37 and Model 45 guitars (a Model 37 guitar was a 37G, and a mandolin a 37M). Regal offered more tenor guitar models but used a different numbering system, calling their tenors the 19 ½, 27 ½, 37 ½, and 45 ½.

    The rare Model 206, with engraved gold plating and five-ply, gold-sparkle binding, was the top of Dobro’s line in the early 1930s.

    In September ’34 Dobro introduced a line of metal-body guitars.

    Rudy Dopyera wanted Dobro to build metal instruments from the beginning, but John was not satisfied with the soldering method used by National. The solder of the era was weak, and heliarc welding was not yet invented. When John Dopyera found a local shop making metal boxes by crimping the edges together, he learned the technique from the foreman and applied it to metal guitars. The crimped rims of Dobro’s metal guitars gave them the name “fiddle-edge.”

    The first metal Dobros had solid headstocks and individual gear machines, at that time an expensive feature. Dobro’s metal guitars had “crossed window” soundholes; Regal’s had five-sectioned f-holes. The Dobro M14 (Regal 14M) “Leader” had a body of nickel-plated brass, the M15 Professional was of German silver, and the M16 “Artist” was of German silver, “…elaborately engraved.” Regal and Dobro used different engraving patterns. Serial numbers on the metal guitars ran in a new sequence with the prefix “M.” These instruments were the quality single-cone guitars John Dopyera wanted to build at National in 1929. But times had changed. Few of the M guitars sold in the Depression market.

    In 1935 a less-expensive line of Dobro metal guitars replaced the M series. The Model 32 had a painted steel body. The Model 46 was made of “Dobro-Lite” aluminum, finished in translucent silver-gold or, later, painted.

    The Model 62 had a body of nickel-plated brass with stencil-sandblasted designs on the front and back.

    In January ’35, following a bitter lawsuit and a lot of wheeling and dealing, National and Dobro merged into one company under the control of Louis Dopyera. Two months later National-Dobro moved into a new factory at 6920 McKinley Avenue in Los Angeles, where the two lines came to share much equipment. The characteristic square slot ends of the earlier Dobros gave way to rounded slot ends passing through the headstocks at a slant, cut by the same router used on National guitars of that period. McKinley Avenue Dobros typically have spun cones instead of stamped ones and serial numbers in the 8000s. They include the Model 27 square-necks prized by collectors today.

    At the ’35 NAMM show, Dobro introduced the prototypes of its new electric line: the No. 1 Hawaiian Guitar, with a one-piece body of cast aluminum, the No. 2 Standard Guitar, with a Regal archtop body and a pickup mounted in an oval metal housing, and the No. 3 Mandolin. The earliest aluminum lap steels had no knobs. Later Dobro added first a volume and then a tone control. The aluminum guitar was discontinued by 1937.

    In early ’36 National-Dobro opened a branch office in Chicago, the center of the nation’s musical instrument business. National and Dobro instruments shipped from Los Angeles to Chicago were numbered in the same series with the prefix “A.” By ’37 the Chicago office grew from a warehouse to a full-fledged factory, building National and Supro instruments and handling so much of the company’s business that the Los Angeles plant finally closed.

    In August ’37, National-Dobro contracted all Dobro assembly to Regal, agreeing to sell Regal hardware by the unit. By that time National-Dobro’s attention was focused on production and profitability.

    Louis Dopyera had bought out all his brothers and, except for a few odd shares, was sole owner of the company. All five brothers continued to collect royalties for use of the Dobro brand name.

    The introduction of a cheap, efficient gear machine in ’36 allowed solid headstocks on lower-priced guitars. Regal began using solid headstocks on all models of Dobros in a new serial number sequence beginning apparently at one and continuing into four digits. Mike Auldridge played a Model 37 from this series with the Seldom Scene in the ’70s and ’80s, and kept another only a few serial numbers different as a backup.

    Once Regal took over all Dobro production, it ceased numbering any guitars except for a occasional enigmatic marks like “J” or “HH25.”

    National-Dobro, however, continued the Dobro number series, which had reached the 9000s, usually with an “L” prefix, on National guitars. Regal never numbered resonator guitars carrying its own trademark, except by accident.

    Dobro metal-body and electric guitars, 1935.

    Regal mixed and matched hardware freely on all its Dobro guitars, apparently using whatever tailpieces or coverplates were handy at the time.

    After ’37 Regal used the f-hole and crossed-window dies on metal guitars and sold them with or without pickguards. Distributors, studios, and mail-order houses sold Regal-built resonator instruments under brand names that included Alhambra, Broman, Bruno, Gretsch, Magno-tone, More Harmony, NIOMA, Norwood Chimes, Old Kraftsman, and Orpheum.

    In ’37 the Dobro Model 75, with a walnut body and engraved coverplate, made a brief appearance in Regal’s catalog. That year Regal replaced the budget Model 19 with the Model 25, which had top and back binding and pointed f-holes, and introduced the Model 6, a small, two-tone guitar with f-holes and a mandolin-size resonator not specified as genuine Dobro, although many of them were. The Model 6 had a moon-and-stars or 12-diamond coverplate.

    In 1937 Regal introduced the Dobro Hawaiian Electric Guitar, with a solid, square-ended wooden body. The Dobro Spanish Electric Guitar had an archtop body with a two-blade pickup mounted in a square metal housing.

    In 1939 Regal revised its prices and changed the Dobro line once again. The blond Model 5, with a mandolin resonator, joined the Model 6 in the bargain basement. The former Model 25 got a $2 raise to become the new Model 27, and the former Model 27 went up $5 to become the Model 32. The steel-bodied former Model 32 became the Model 35. The mahogany Model 37 disappeared from the line. The aluminum Model 47 dropped $1 to become the Model 46, and the plated-brass Model 62 rose $3 to become the Model 65. A measure of the Great Depression was that the most expensive wood-body Dobro of ’39, the spruce-top Model 45, had the same price and model number as the cheapest student Dobro of ’29.

    Regal made a few Dobro guitars for which no model number is known. Some spruce-tops had f-holes instead of screenholes. In ’38 Regal made Super Auditorium Size Dobros using archtop bodies bought from Harmony or Kay. These required 13-fret necks to get the scale right. In ’41 Regal made an f-hole resonator guitar with maple top, back, and sides in a natural finish.

    The U.S.’ entry into WWII was a death blow to resonator guitars. President Roosevelt issued a limitation order restricting the use of critical materials. Louis Dopyera saw the handwriting on the wall. Within weeks of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, he sold all the assets of National-Dobro to himself and with his former employees Vic Smith and Al Frost started the Valco Corporation to go into war work. According to Smith, Valco sold the Dobro hardware it had on hand to Gibson.

    Gibson experimented with a few resonator guitar prototypes in the 1940s, but never put any into production. After the war Valco returned to the instrument business, building electric guitars. Regal struggled along and declared bankruptcy in 1954.

    Not until the folk music revival of the ’60s would anyone make another Dobro.


    Tom Gray is co-author with John Paul Quarterman of Dobro: An Illustrated History, due out later this year from Centerstream Publishing.


    This article originally appeared in VG June 1999 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


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  • The Duane Allman “Layla” Guitar?

    The Duane Allman “Layla” Guitar?

    VG Overdrive is sponsored by MOD Kits DIY.

    Duane Allman is regarded as one of the greatest talents to ever pick up the guitar, transforming music by crossing the boundaries of rock, soul, blues, country, jazz, and other styles. His all-too-short career encompassed hundreds of recording sessions (many uncredited) for various artists from Wilson Pickett and Aretha Franklin to his own groups (the Hourglass, the Allman Joys, the Allman Brothers Blues Band), and his incredible work on the Derek and the Dominos sessions with Eric Clapton.

    Duane Allman Photo: Robbie Cantrel

    The sessions and subsequent album provided an excellent showcase for a certain 1957 Gibson Les Paul goldtop bearing serial number 7 3312, which its present owner has researched extensively and believes was featured on the bulk of Duane Allman’s work, including what is arguably his most important – the Derek and the Dominos’ song “Layla.”

    Scot Lamar, who now owns the guitar, says Allman acquired the goldtop in late 1968 or early ’69, very likely from Lipham Music in Gainsville, Florida, which sold many instruments to Duane as well as bandmates Dickey Betts and Berry Oakley.

    In September of ’69, the Allman Brothers Band was playing the Peabody Auditorium in Daytona Beach with opening act Stone Balloon, whose guitarist, Rick Stine, played a plain-top sunburst ’59 Les Paul Standard.

    “Duane likes the guitar, so he trades his goldtop, 200 bucks cash, and a 50-watt Marshall head for the ’Burst,” recalled Mike Boulware, a former music store manager who specialized in vintage instruments and has helped Lamar trace the history of the guitar.

    Scot Lamar 1977 with his newly purchased – and freshly stripped – Gibson Les Paul.

    Not wanting to part with the pickups in his goldtop, Allman had one of his roadies put them in the sunburst – a common occurrence at the time, when the word “vintage” wasn’t applied to old guitars.

    “I saw Duane playing it in a battle of the bands at my high school – Gainesville High – in October of 1969,” Boulware noted. “I was on the crew at that show, which was sponsored by Lipham Music.”

    Stine apparently later sold the guitar locally and somewhere along the line the gold finish was sanded from its top.

    Fast forward to 1977 and Coastal Music, a small store in Daytona Beach, where owner Jim Omby takes it in trade. Local player Billy Bowers sees the guitar and calls his friend Scot Lamar, who buys it.

    “I had a recording studio,” said Lamar. “Billy knew I loved Les Pauls and knew I had the money to buy it.”

    Later that year, Lamar took the guitar to Gruhn’s Guitars, in Nashville, to have the top refinished in gold, and have bit of wood replaced on the back of the headstock where a dog had apparently chewed it. Deciding he didn’t like the top as it was, in July of ’78 he took the guitar to Tommy Stinson of Strings and Things, in Memphis, hoping to get a more accurate gold applied. Then, in 1997 – when the art of guitar refinishing was far more refined – Lamar enlisted Tom Murphy at Gibson’s Historic Division.

    “He refinished the entire guitar, and did his famous ‘historic’ treatment to it,” said Boulware. “He finally got the gold right.”

    In trying to establish credibility, any guitar that comes with a story like this one faces serious hurdles. And of course that isn’t aided by the fact that nobody who hung around with the Allmans could have known 30 years ago that someday such details would matter. But Lamar says proof that this is in fact Duane’s goldtop lies in photos of the headstock showing the old serial number. There is also video of Allman playing this guitar, shot from early 1969 and until the Layla sessions. The Tom Dowd documentary The Language of Music lends insight about Duane as a player, the Allman Brothers in general, and the goldtop specifically, as it is, in the words of Boulware, “easily recognized” in the video by a particular pattern in the pearl inlay at the 15th fret.

    Guitar photos: Jeff Gage. Archive photos courtesy Scott Lamar.

    “I encountered the guitar again while working at Sabine Music in the late ’80s,” Boulware noted. “Scot brought it in for me and Charlie Hargrett to authenticate. Charlie, who was a founding member of Blackfoot and had shared the stage with Duane and the guitar, was working at Sabine after leaving Blackfoot for a while. And in 2001 I went to Scot’s to inspect and further document it, and became convinced this was the guitar from ‘Layla’.

    “In my research, I compared all the inlays to find they all are a match for the known photos of Duane playing the guitar,” he added. “And they are perfectly visible in many video clips, such as those shot at the Love Valley Festival that followed the second Atlanta Pop Festival.”

    Prior to obtaining this guitar, Allman played slide on sessions with Clarence Carter and others, but the development of the band coincided with his slide tone emerging as its own voice. Not coincidentally, that paralleled the September ’69 trade for the goldtop.

    Determining which ABB songs Duane used the goldtop to record is made difficult by the fact that those who were present remember different things. Personal memories of ABB concerts play a role, as do studio logs. And Boulware acknowledges that both can be suspect. “For instance, the Layla log shows overdubs were done in October, 1970, when the Brothers were actually back on the road,” he said. “And Dominos keyboardist Bobby Whitlock recalls that ‘Layla’ was done before Duane left. He also has rendered a heartfelt note saying this was the main instrument Duane used in this period, and was very adamant about it being the guitar on ‘Layla.’”

    Studio logs confirm there are two sets of Live at Fillmore East recordings, he adds. “One, in February, 1970 (from the Grateful Dead’s board), and the better-known version from March of ’71, made after Duane sold the goldtop. It’s heard on the first set of Fillmore records, as well as the first Allman Brothers album, Idlewild South, and the Layla sessions.”

    Considering the length of the time it was owned by Allman, as well as the classic recordings it helped to make, Lamar and Boulware believe this is the most important guitar in Allman history.

    (TOP) Closeup of the original serial number on the Lamar goldtop. (ABOVE) And today.

    “Its tone, for me, represents the apex of rock, especially as it was used on ‘Layla,’ alongside Clapton’s famous Stratocaster tone,” Boulware said. “Not only was this the most important of his many guitars, it helped shape his trademark slide sound.

    “We’re all different people because we heard Duane,” he added. “He did his most eloquent talking with his mouth closed and his ears and heart open.”

    Lamar regularly lends the guitar to players for public performances, recording sessions, etc. “To me it’s a piece of fine art, like a painting or a sculpture, with the added bonus of sounding like God calling your name,” he said.

    (LEFT) The fretboard of the goldtop owned by Scot Lamar, as it looked in 1977. (RIGHT) And Today.

    Special thanks to Charlie Hargrett for background and research. An original member of Blackfoot, he shared the stage with Duane and the ’57 goldtop more than once. Thanks also to Billy Bowers. Learn more about the guitar at duaneallmansgoldtop.com.


    This article originally appeared in VG November 2008 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


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  • Phil Campbell

    Phil Campbell

    Phil Campbell: Raymond Ahner/UDR Music.

    From 1984 through 2015, Phil Campbell was the guitarist in Motörhead, and for the last 20 years of the band’s existence was its sole guitarist, appearing on classic releases such as Orgasmatron, 1916, and Bastards, among others. With the 2015 passing of Lemmy Kilmister, the band came to an abrupt end.

    Instead of retiring, Campbell has continued with music, forming Phil Campbell and the Bastard Sons, which actually includes his three sons and recently issued a self-titled debut EP.

    The new band is mostly family…
    Yes, it’s my kids except the singer. My son, Todd, has been playing since he was four or five and knows my playing back to front. All my kids have played drums and guitar and a bit of bass since they were four, five, or six years old and they’re all very musical. Playing together is just one of those good-chemistry things, so it’s great. Apart from my wife and my dog, I’m the worst musician in the family (laughs).

    How does it compare or contrast to Motörhead?
    Recording-wise, it’s a little bit quieter. Musically, I have my son, Todd, on the other guitar, so we can do a few more things. We’re experimenting with stuff at the moment, and it all seems to be going down really well. The concerts have been good and we’re really happy with the EP.

    Motörhead was just a unique thing. It’s difficult to put it into words, actually, but it was something special. This is special, but in a different way. It’s the same soul and the same feeling at heart is definitely there with the music. My kids grew up coming to Motörhead shows and hanging out with Lemmy.

    Which amps and effects do you use?
    I’ve been using Marshall amps, a Bogner as well in the studio, and Laboga amps. I also use Gurus amps, which are made in Italy.

    Effects-wise, I use delays and wahs. I just jumble them together and see which one I fancy playing. Some stuff is better for live work, and some you don’t want to throw in a van.

    Of your guitar collection, which is your favorite?
    My wife bought one for me for our anniversary about five years ago – a ’57 Les Paul Custom Fretless Wonder with a Bigsby and Alnico pickups. That’s my favorite guitar, but I can’t take it on tour because it means too much to me. I’ve donated a lot of my guitars to charities, but still have 20 or 30 vintage guitars, about 100 in all.

    One of your main guitars is an Explorer-shaped model from LAG.
    I was at Frankfurt Music Fair… must have been in the late ’80s, when one of the guys from LAG showed up. He took the guitar out of the trunk of his car and said, “Check this guitar out, Phil.” It was a one-off for some guy who ordered it; it was either that he didn’t show up or didn’t like it. I tried it and said, “Nobody’s going to get this one back.” I’ve been playing it ever since. It’s a workhorse, and they’ve done a signature model for the last eight years.

    Which Motörhead album are you most proud of from a guitar-playing standpoint?
    Bastards was pretty good – that’s my favorite. I remember using a Nashville tuning on the acoustic ballad, “Don’t Let Daddy Kiss Me.” Howard Benson was producing and he showed me that tuning. To this day, I’m still not quite sure what it is. On the second and third verses, if you listen to the bits in between, you hear me blasting away.

    I tried my best on all the records. I’m not a heavy-metal player, never have been. I’m a rock-and-roll player and a blues player, basically, but I like to play it loud.

    Who are a few of your favorite players?
    My favorite players… You’ve got Satch and Vai and everyone, and Pagey is amazing, and Iommi. But I kind of lean towards Alvin Lee – fast blues. And Johnny Winter. Stuff like Billy Gibbons on “Thunderbird” is what gets me off. I can’t play it as well as those cats, but that gets me off much more than playing a doom riff. I try to achieve some way up to these guys. I get close on a good night. It’s fun trying to get close after all these years.


    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.


  • Steve Rothery

    Steve Rothery

    Steve Rothery: Alison Toon.

    Marillion has been playing thought-provoking neo-prog since its 1983 debut album, Script for a Jester’s Tear. Along the way, the group has issued classic releases of the genre including Misplaced Childhood, Seasons End, and Marbles, among others. Recently, it unveiled an 18th studio album, FEAR (F**k Everyone and Run). Guitarist Steve Rothery has been a member of the band since its inception – the only original member still in attendance.

    Which guitars do we hear on the new album?
    It’s mainly three – my Blade RH-4, which was one of the first Blades made in 1988/’89. It has two single-coils, a humbucker, a switchable mid-boost, maple neck, and a tobacco sunburst finish. It’s my normal go-to guitar, live, and I’ve used it since the Anoraknophobia album in 2001. One other is a guitar made by Jack Dent, who has made me a range of guitars, all beautiful instruments. The last one he made, which I used on my solo album, The Ghosts of Pripyat, is called the Raven and its pickup configuration is modeled after the Blade, including the switchable boost. It’s got a great sort of chimey, rich, deep sound.

    The only other electric guitar on the album was a 12-string Italia on “White Paper.” It has a Rickenbacker-type of approach, but the neck’s a little wider. It’s got this white finish, which is not usually my style, but it’s a great-sounding guitar and it records really well.

    How do you approach solos in Marillion?
    Most of what you hear on this album is what happened in the room at the time. For one of the sections in “The New Kings” we jammed for several months, then used the best of the ideas, where the first part was from three years ago, and then it goes into a section that was jammed around in January of this year. So it became like a montage – a patchwork of ideas from different times. But because everything is recorded into ProTools, we have that facility. So I guess if the music inspires me, it kind of carries me along, really. I just tried to not play the obvious thing. Which is always difficult, especially when you’ve made 18 albums; there’s the fear of repeating yourself. So I try and find something fresh each time.

    Guitar-wise, which Marillion album is your favorite?
    Each has great moments. Apart from obviously the new album, which is always your favorite at the time, the classic album for me probably would be Afraid of Sunlight. While recording it, we were faced with having to make an album pretty quickly and were under the threat of being dropped by EMI at the time. It was the first album recorded at our own studio, and it’s just a great collection of songs with some really cool sounds in there. There’s a Steinberger doubleneck 12-string played through Rockman modules and a Quadraverb, which creates this really bell-like sound on the track “Gazpacho.” There are some classic Marshall sounds, as well, on “King.” My main live guitar from the old days is a black Squier Strat – one of the Japanese ones, with a Kahler-looking vibrato and EMG pickups. That, with the Rockman modules, I used quite a lot on that album.

    Back in the ’80s, Marillion toured with Queen and Rush. What do you recall about sharing the stage with Brian May and Alex Lifeson?
    A couple of months ago, I saw Brian for the first time in about 25 years, actually. We did a festival together in Switzerland, and he came over, said hello. In the ’80s, our band played one of the festivals and he actually joined us for a song. I’ve never heard a guitar sound so loud! He had a wall of AC30s cranked, and it was like a jumbo jet taking off. It was phenomenal. Alex Lifeson… Rush has always been a fantastic live band. The thing that most impressed me was just the speed of the guitar changes he does on some of the tracks where he’s playing an acoustic, then it’s whipped off him by a tech and within three or four seconds he’s playing a power chord on an electric. I envy that dexterity!


    This article originally appeared in VG February 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • Alex Skolnick

    Alex Skolnick

    Alex Skolnick: Kevin Wilson.

    The worlds of metal and jazz guitar couldn’t be more opposite – one specializes in volume and riffing, the other on restraint and strumming. As guitarist for thrash metallists Testament and leader of a trio, Alex Skolnick has carved niches in both.

    What’s the story with the latest Testament album, Brotherhood of the Snake?
    It happened after a lot of touring with the band, so everybody’s chops were well-oiled. But there was a sense of it being rushed; we didn’t get to jam on the songs. It was done when Eric [Peterson, guitar] and Chuck [Billy, vocals] found tiny windows of time and the rest of us were involved in different projects. Some tracks have riffs Eric and I had worked on together. “Neptune’s Spear” just didn’t make it on to the previous album, but it’s got a Baroque counterpoint section I came up with. Even though it was done in a rush and a slightly different direction, it sounds really good. Production-wise, it’s one of the stronger records.

    Is it difficult to switch gears – play metal, then jazz?
    Not anymore. It was when I dove into jazz for the first time: I had to take a sabbatical from most other music. Once I re-entered the metal world, when Testament reunited [in 2005], I was doing more of it. I never stopped it entirely, but it wasn’t my focus. Once I started again in the 2000s, it took a while, but when shows were scheduled, I gave myself months to review, then after the first day thought, “I’ll have this in a week.” Maybe 72 hours later, it came back and never left.

    The tones I use for each are very different, the volume is different. With jazz, I’m not playing through a wall of amps, next to a bass that’s so loud I have to wear earplugs. When I play jazz, the whole band is not as loud as one instrument in a metal situation. So you’re going to play different. When I play metal, I don’t have a hollowbody or a semi-hollow acoustic with this clean, natural tone that brings out chord melodies. I have this very crunchy sound. Each lends itself to different playing.

    Alex Skolnick: Tom Couture.

    Which guitars do you use?
    It depends, but my one overlap is my ESP signature model, which is handcrafted. There’s also the LTD version. To me, it captures everything I want and feels effortless for moving around the neck and its fluidity. And, it has many tones. It’s my go-to guitar for Testament and other heavy projects like Metal Allegiance. But it’s been finding its way into other work, as well. I do a lot of jazz-rock; I’ve been touring lately with Stu Hamm, and the guitar sounds great. I’ll find different tones. Or the Jane Getter Premonition… she’s a great artist and has Chad Wackerman on drums and Adam Holzman, from Miles Davis’ band [on keyboards]; that brings out a whole other side of that guitar.

    With my Trio, I split between that guitar and one called the Montreal Premiere, made by Godin. It’s a semi-hollow; for the longest time, I never saw the point of the semi-hollow because I always thought the sound is closer to an electric than a full jazz box like a 175 or an L-5. But this one, I flipped out over because it has the elegance of a hollowbody yet doesn’t feed back much. I can distort it and it still sounds great. I can do a screaming solo in the same song as an elegant chord melody, which I actually do in “Dream On” by Aerosmith, which that I’ve revamped and put on the new Trio album, Unbound. It’s very inspired by McLaughlin and Hendrix.


    This article originally appeared in VG February 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • Roger McGuinn

    Roger McGuinn

    Few ’60s rockers have had the lasting influence of the Byrds’ Roger McGuinn, whose 12-string Rickenbacker “jangle pop” sound influenced the likes of Tom Petty and REM, and helped blaze the “country rock” trail later perfected by the Eagles, Poco, and others.

    McGuinn is still making a difference, as evidenced by his recent four-disc release, The Folk Den Project: Twentieth Anniversary Edition, which sees the singer/guitarist covering folk tunes written/performed by others in an effort to keep the material in the spotlight.

    Since 1995, McGuinn has been recording traditional folk material offered via his website, mcguinn.com, and he re-recorded 100 tracks from The Folk Den Project: 1995-2005, before doing the same for the Twentieth Anniversary set. Beyond tunes renowned (“Yellow Rose of Texas”) and obscure (“South Australia”), both include compositions updated lyrically by McGuinn to fit the times. For example, “Last Payday at Coal Creek” is reworked as “No Payday in Detroit.”

    In a discussion with Vintage Guitar, McGuinn discussed his career, his instruments, and his approach to recording.

    The Martin D-7.

    Who influenced you to start playing guitar?
    My original influence was Elvis Presley. He really didn’t play guitar – just hung one over his shoulder. But Scotty Moore was one of my influences.

    How about later, in the realm of folk guitar?
    Bob Gibson. He was kind of a student of Peter Seeger, whose 12-string guitar was a great influence. I got my first 12-string in ’57 or ’58 and it influenced my later work with the Byrds because I’d already been playing it.

    How did you first choose the Rickenbacker that became so important to the Byrds’ sound?
    We saw A Hard Day’s Night, and George Harrison had a Rick 12 in the movie. So I went to the guitar store and traded an acoustic 12-string and a five-string banjo to get a Rickenbacker 12-string. It was an amazing improvement.

    What makes the Rickenbacker 12-string unique for you compared to other guitars?
    There’s something interesting about its hollow body. It’s only about 2″ thick, but it’s got a ring to it – the pickups they use and the way they string it, with the high string last. On a 12-string, the high string is usually first when you pluck down. But the Rickenbackers were strung with a high string last, so you hit the low string and the high string, which gave it more of a ring.

    Would you say your guitar playing affected the Byrds’ sound and direction?
    Well, I would say the Rickenbacker electric 12-string created what they call “the jingle-jangle sound” the Byrds were known for.

    How would you chart your progression as a guitarist?
    I just kind of play folk music – fingerpicking and some flatpicking. One of the most unusual things I did was “Eight Miles High,” which was more flatpicking where I was emulating John Coltrane on the saxophone.

    The HD-7 Roger McGuinn signature model.

    How has the Folk Den project affected or influenced your guitar playing?
    It kept me in the studio, kept my chops up. We took about a year to re-record the songs, and I had to go back and do guitar parts on most of them. They’re all multi-track recordings that we put down to CD-quality.

    As you see it, which of your albums were most pivotal in regard to advancing your songwriting and guitar playing?
    Songwriting – and I think guitar-wise – probably Cardiff Rose (from 1976) and Back From Rio (’91).

    Back From Rio is particularly underrated. You were backed by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. How did that develop?
    It started in ’87, when Tom was in Florida and we went to visit him at his hotel. His daughters, who were young at the time, were flying kites on the beach. He said, “In a couple of weeks, I’m going on tour with Bob Dylan in Europe.” I said, “Oh man. You’re going to have so much fun!” Because I remembered the Rolling Thunder Revue and how much fun that was. Tom said, “Well, I’ll ask Bob if you can come along.” The next day, he said, “Bob said, ‘Yeah, bring him along’!” So I got to be the opener, and Tom and the Heartbreakers backed me on some Byrds songs, then did their set before backing Dylan on his.

    While on tour, Tom and I wrote “King of the Hill,” which was about John Phillips – we were both reading his autobiography, Papa John. Randy Gerston took that song to Clive Davis and said, “Hey, this is pretty cool. You ought to sign Roger to a record deal.” And they did. So, Tom and I did the song, Stan Lynch played drums on the album, Mike Campbell came in and did a lot of guitar, Benmont Tench did a lot of keyboard work, and they brought in John Jorgenson to play multiple instruments. That’s how Tom got involved in Back from Rio – it was a natural progression of events.

    “The Byrds were incredibly good as a live band with Clarence.”

    Your primary instruments these days are a banjo, a Martin seven-string, Martin 12-string, and the Rick 12-string…
    Yeah. I got the banjo from Bernie Leadon, who was in the Eagles at the time and needed a Scruggs-style banjo. I had one, so he came to my house and traded a banjo he had made. It is really wonderful, and I still play it.

    The seven-string is a Martin HD-7; I asked Martin if they would put the best part of a 12-string on a six-string so I could play leads up and down the G string. It has that high string and low string on the G, like a 12-string, but the rest is like a six-string. My idea was to make the one guitar that would kind of do everything. I play it a lot – love it.

    The Martin 12-string is another signature model we came up with some years ago.

    McGuinn (right) onstage with Clarence White.

    How did you come up with the idea for the Martin seven-string?
    My wife, Camilla, and I came back from Paris on the Concorde. They told us they’d handle our luggage “with kid gloves” – wrapped it in plastic and everything. We flew to New York and stayed in a hotel at the Trump Towers. I opened the 12-string case and was practicing. I didn’t notice that the back had been damaged, but Camilla, who was behind me, suddenly screamed when she saw that the end of the guitar was caved in! They must’ve dropped it. I thought, “Maybe it’s not a great idea to carry a 12-string acoustic and a six-string acoustic on the road. I’d love to have a six-string that had the best part of a 12.” So I went to Martin, and Dick Boak and I worked out on a napkin exactly how we wanted the peghead and the bridge to be – we basically designed this Martin HD-7. And we kind of had to fight for it, because Martin had a hard time tooling it. But they made several hundred, and it’s my favorite instrument to play these days because it has the ring of a 12-string with the beauty, ease, and flexibility of a six-string; you can bend on it, and you can play bluegrass runs on the bottom strings. It’s really fun to play.

    McGuinn with his Rickenbacker 360/12 in 1972.

    What other instruments have you played throughout your career?
    I play some mandolin. I bought one maybe 10 years ago and have been using it on Folk Den albums. I also have a bandolin, which is like a banjo body with a mandolin neck, strung like a mandolin.

    Do you still own all three Rickenbackers you played in the ’60s with the Byrds?
    No. I’ve got one. The other two were stolen.

    Which amplifiers do you use?
    Onstage now I use a Roland Cube 80, but I used to use a JC-120. In the studio, I used to plug in direct; I’d go into the control room and plug into the board, because I had more control that way.

    What about effects?
    I don’t use effects other than compression, and that just happened with Columbia Records, when we recorded “Mr. Tambourine Man,” and Ray Gerhardt was the engineer. He put us through two compressors, piggybacked. That’s the only effect I ever used in the studio. Later, on the road, I brought a phase shifter when that was the new thing. But I think the Rick sounds better without it.

    Martin’s D-42RM.

    You play with a flatpick and wear picks on your middle and ring fingers. When and how did you devise that approach?
    When I started in the Byrds, I had to play lead guitar with a flatpick, but I also wanted to fingerpick, so I moved the fingerpick over one finger and used the flatpick between my thumb and index finger as the thumb pick. My picking style developed simply to work for both fingerpicking and flatpicking.

    Do you still use .010-gauge Pyramid Gold strings on the Rick?
    I do, and I love them. They’re kind of expensive, but they last a long time. I mean, like a year.

    You also have a home studio. What’s in your setup there?
    It’s a MacBook Pro with Protools, and good microphones. It’s everything you need. It’s like a project studio.

    How do modern home studios compare to studios in the ’60s?
    In the ’60s we had a four-track, and now I have 96. So that’s better. And we’d record to 15″ IPS reel-to-reel machines, in real time – so you couldn’t pop in and fix something. So it’s better now that you can go in and move a part and copy and paste, and all these wonderful advantages of Protools. I think it’s better now. The only thing is if there is thunder or lightning outside or the gardeners are outside with a buzzing machine, you might hear some of that. So, you have to quit for a minute. That’s the only advantage of the real studios – soundproofing.

    We went to Dolly Parton’s studio in Nashville, and she had a Neve mixing board – hundreds of thousands of dollars – and a 24-track tape machine in the corner covered in dust. She was using two inputs of the Neve to go into a Macintosh, and the engineer sat with a mouse, controlling the tracks. They didn’t have faders or anything. I recorded “Turn! Turn! Turn!” with Dolly, and it was amazing. I got into it because Terry Melcher invited me to the West Coast to play on a Beach Boys album. I went to his house in Carmel and was sitting in the living room with him, thinking that at any minute we were going to get in a car and go to the studio. Instead, we walked into the den and there was his engineer with a Macintosh and a beta version of Protools. It was a Mac Quadra and he had 12 gigabytes of optical storage, and that was all he had (laughs). He recorded this whole Beach Boys album on a Macintosh. I came back home and said, “I’ve got to get this.” But back then, Protools was something like $10,000. And you had to get these modules that went to a tower computer, because normal computers weren’t fast enough. Now, a MacBook Pro is fast enough to do 96 tracks.

    It’s interesting to ponder what some ’60s artists would have done if they had access to more than four tracks.
    We had to be pretty creative to get “Mr. Tambourine Man” on a four-track. I mean, the band was probably on two tracks, with everything live in the studio. Harmonies and lead vocal went on the other tracks, along with a tambourine or something. You had to bounce things from one track to another, and when you did that, you’d lose its original sound. And at the CBS Studio on Sunset and Gower in Hollywood, they had an eight-track, but the engineers were scared of it because they had to rewire the console! So they had a sign on it that said “Big Beast” or something. They didn’t want to deal with it, so they were still working with a four-track when we started.

    Let’s discuss the Byrds’ guitarists, starting with Clarence White.
    Clarence was amazing. He was the guy Jimi Hendrix came backstage to say hello to. It was like having a loaded machine gun when you had Clarence White out there. The Byrds were incredibly good as a live band with Clarence.

    Was Jimi a Byrds fan, and did you ever hang out with him?
    Yeah. He came backstage at the Whiskey a Go Go and I shook his hand, then he went right over to Clarence and congratulated him on his great playing. Another time, I was in the Village when Eric Andersen saw me on the street and invited me to his loft. He said, “I’ve got Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix up there – we’re having a jam session. Do you want to come up and play?” And I said, “Yeah!” Of course, they were playing all blues-based stuff and I just kind of tagged along behind them. But it was quite an experience.

    Which songs contain your favorite solos by Clarence?
    He did great work on everything we ever did, like “Chestnut Mare” and “Old Blue.” He was incredible. He was unpredictable. He was always syncopating and coming out of places you didn’t expect.

    What about Gene Clark?
    Gene was not a great guitar player. He was a good songwriter and singer, but he just kind of strummed and played rhythm.

    David Crosby?
    David was a really fine rhythm player – influenced by jazz, so he had the ability to really do great rhythm parts in the background.

    Gene Parsons played a bit of guitar, too.
    Yes, Gene played, but he was not known for his guitar playing.

    Gram Parsons was briefly a member of the Byrds, as a guitarist and pedal-steel player.
    I don’t think he was a great guitarist. He was a strummer – wasn’t a picker. He just used it to accompany his vocals. He was a pretty good singer and he really had a passion for [country] music. That was his strength, really.

    What do you recall about Gram being in the band? Did he help steer it in a country-rock direction?
    He didn’t really start out as a country artist, he was in a Kingston Trio kind of group at one time. He was influenced by Elvis Presley, like most of us were. And I remember Jim Stafford grew up with him in Florida. Jim asked Gram about country music, and he wasn’t really into it at the time. So there was some development that happened later in his life.

    He was in the Byrds as a sideman – like a musician for hire. He wasn’t really a group member or a partner. But he was enthusiastic about country music – loved Merle Haggard, Hank Williams, and all those artists – and brought that enthusiasm to us. He was the catalyst for us going to Nashville and recording Sweetheart of the Rodeo.

    Was there trepidation from the record company when they first heard Sweetheart?
    Columbia Records was really easygoing – they never ever told us what direction to go, never said, “No. You can’t do that.” Once we submitted a record, we said, “This is where we’re going to go,” and they went, “Okay,” and they got behind it. They used a Jo Mora poster for the cover… they had to license it from his estate or something. But they were very lenient with us – let us go any artistic direction. So there was never any hassle getting it done. We had most of the songs written by the time we got to Nashville, so we mostly hung around the hotel and played poker (laughs).

    Why do you think that album was not fully appreciated when it was first released?
    It came out of left field. Most people who were rock enthusiasts back then did not like country music, because of its political ramifications – it was considered fascist/right-wing music. And rock-and-roll was left-wing communist music. So the two camps didn’t get along. I remember people saying, “The heartbreak of Sweetheart of the Rodeo.” And 30 years later it kind of became the best Byrds albums ever.


    This article originally appeared in VG January 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.