Henretta Engineering Pedals
Prices: Green Zapper, Bluebird, and Purple Octopus, $125 each; Chord Blaster, $140
Info: www.henrettaengineering.com.
Bigger is not necessarily better – especially when you have a pedal board full of stompboxes, but still need room for just one more effect. In this case, miniscule can rule.
Enter Henretta Engineering and its unique lineup; eight analog pedals handmade here in the good old U.S.A., each with just a 2×2-inch footprint. Small is indeed beautiful.
Their square shape allows these little fellows to squeeze into spaces typically uninhabitable on pedalboards, and they are easily rotated to position their 9-volt jacks right to left, left to right, up to down, or down to up.
Add to this one more novel feature: These mini stompboxes are “no-knobbers.” Each has an on/off footswitch, but that’s it. Sound parameters are dialed in with internal trimmers; then the player can simply forget about the settings. It’s that easy.
Mastermind Kevin Henretta offers the Orange Whip Compressor, Bluebird Fuzz, Green Zapper Auto Filter, Mr. White Tweak Boost, Pinkman Dirty Boost, Crimson Tremolo, Purple Octopus Octave Up, and Emerald Prince Preamp. The concept, of course, is a nod to vintage Dan Armstrong mini pedals like the Blue Clipper and Orange Squeezer, but Henretta’s creations are simpler, rock-solid, and brand-spanking-new.
Henretta sets up all of the pedals for a Telecaster with vintage-inspired medium-output pickups. Users playing a similar axe may never need to open up these effects for tweaking. Otherwise, adjustment is simple, and the sound can be customized to the user’s rig.
Several Henretta pedals were tested in their stock settings with a ’55 Esquire, ’56 Strat, and Gretsch 6120 reissue through a vintage tweed Deluxe and Grammatico LaGrange amps.
On its factory trim settings, the Green Zapper proved closer to a compressor than a high-powered Mu-Tron III. To get more oomph, we re-trimmed the sound and dialed in a nice little funk chunk for a Bootsy Collins-approved vibe.
The Bluebird Fuzz gave a subtle yet sublime overdrive, adding teeth to the sound without distorting the tone, which is certainly something that can’t be said of all fuzz pedals. Think of it like an Ibanez Tube Screamer enriching that special tube-amp voice.
Finally, Henretta’s Purple Octopus worked well in adding overtones that rang clear, especially on the higher strings. It’s quite sensitive to the touch and picking on the guitar, but when you get those octave notes, it sings like a heavenly choir. Combining the Bluebird Fuzz and Purple Octopus inline proved great fun, resulting in a fine Octavia-like sound that would have made Mr. Hendrix smile.
But wait, there’s more. Henretta also offers a full-size stompbox. The Chord Blaster, is also handmade and all-analog. Sure, the world may not need another distortion box, but this one offers something special. The Chord Blaster boasts two differently voiced gain controls that work independently and together for a wide range of sounds. This dual distortion control is coupled with a simple Tone control of the see-saw type in which the bass is boosted on one end, the highs on the other. The yellow Blast knob distorts the upper mids while the red Chord knob distorts the lower mids.
Upon Henretta’s sage advice, the blue Tone and green Volume controls were set to noon. Then the Blast knob could be dialed up to the level of distortion and upper mid presence desired. From there, the Chord control filled up the bottom end. It doesn’t take much touch to intensify the fuzziness as it’s dialed up past 9 o’clock.
Gain is definitely the Chord Blaster’s thing. Again, it can be used like a TS9 Tube Screamer to add some edge to your amp, or tweak it until it shakes the spider webs out of your attic and dusts your house for you. Talk about almost unlimited options for shaping your sound! It’s difficult to think of another stompbox that offers so many ways to personalize your distortion.
This article originally appeared in VG May 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
One of the most innovative companies of the pre-World-War-II era, National found out quickly that innovation was a double-edged sword. Just as their resonator guitars of the late 1920s made the acoustic Hawaiian guitars of Hermann Weissenborn obsolete, electric guitars of the mid 1930s – some of them made of National’s own making – threatened to deal a similar fate to National’s resonator guitars within a decade of their introduction.
This National Silvo guitar represents not only an effort to present a beautiful, upscale electric Hawaiian model, it also features an innovative feature designed to salvage a waning demand for National’s acoustic resonator guitars.
Though the electric guitar era was barely five years old when National introduced the Silvo in 1937, this guitar would have been seen as a throwback to an earlier time. From the beginning of the electric era – Rickenbacker’s cast aluminum “Frying Pan” of 1932 – electric Hawaiian guitars had been functionally, if not literally, solidbody instruments. The Silvo’s fully hollow metal body was more closely related to the acoustic tri-cone resonator guitars National introduced in ’27 and the single-cone, nickel-plated Style N of 1930 than to any of the electric Hawaiians on the market in the mid ’30s. In fact, the Silvo body appears to be the same as that of a National Style 1 tenor guitar, so one of the reasons for the design may have been to use up surplus tenor bodies.
National was an early player in the electric-guitar market, introducing an electrified Dobro in ’33. But despite the popularity of National’s metalbody tri-cone and single-cone models, when it came to electrics under the National brand, the company opted for more -traditional wood-bodied instruments (furnished by other makers), in which National installed its electronics. Consequently, the Silvo didn’t look like any electric guitar – Spanish or Hawaiian – in the National lineup or anywhere else in the market.
From metal guitar bodies in the late ’20s to molded fiberglass solidbody guitars in the early ’60s, National was always trying new materials. In the ’30s, it was “ebonoid” – black-colored celluloid that company literature referred to as “National’s exclusive beautifier.” National used ebonoid as a substitute for ebony fingerboards (on Hawaiian models) and headstock veneers. On the Silvo, the ebonoid trim extended to the circular plate that held the bridge, pickup, and control knobs. The Roman numeral fingerboard markers, headstock logo, and the designs in the circular plate were achieved by etching through a top layer of ebonoid to reveal a light-colored celluloid layer underneath.
The Silvo, according to catalog copy, “offers everything to a conservative buyer,” but the only conservative aspect of the model was its price. Though it looks as if it would be the top model, it was really mid-line – at $60, it was between the flashy black-and-white New Yorker at $75 and the plain wood-body Supro Hawaiian at $35. It occupied middle ground in the market, as well; Gibson’s EH-150 was available (without the matching amp) for $70, and Gibson’s EH-100 was $44. Rickenbacker’s Bakelite Model B was $62.50, and their chrome-plated, stamped-steel Silver Hawaiian model was $37.50 (these prices are for six-string models without case).
Along with the Hawaiian Silvo, National offered a metalbody tenor guitar and a metalbody mandolin fitted with the Silvo control plate. Both were priced same as the Hawaiian, $60. Curiously, National did not offer a standard six-string Spanish-neck Silvo.
The circular plate on the body was the Silvo’s most innovative feature, but ironically, it did nothing to advance the design of electric Hawaiian guitars, because it was intended for a different purpose on an entirely different guitar – to convert National’s single-cone acoustic resonators to electrics. The plate fit National’s single-cone models such as the Duolian, Triolian, and Style O, and National offered the unit, with the “res-o-lectric” pickup, for just that purpose. The price of $25 included installation. In fact, National would not deliver the unit alone; the buyer had to send his guitar to the factory for installation by National technicians (National also offered to convert any of its tri-cone model to electric for the same price, but on those, the pickup would be mounted directly to the original metal coverplate).
Judging by the rarity of Silvo Hawaiian models and the even greater rarity of converted Duolians, Triolians, Style O’s, etc., the innovative conversion module was a commercial failure. The inconvenience and risk of mailing a guitar to the factory for what appeared to be a simple do-it-yourself retrofit – remove and replace the coverplate, drill a hole in the rim for the jack – was no doubt a factor. National’s pickup design, which by the late ’30s was falling behind those of Gibson and Epiphone, may have been a factor, too. And as the electric guitar began to gain acceptance in the market, players showed a preference for more-traditional-looking archtop models; a converted metalbody National may have played and sounded just fine, but in the context of a Gibson ES-250 with its fancy inlays or an Epiphone Zephyr with its blond finish, a converted National looked like a hybrid from a bygone era.
The Silvo Hawaiian had a beautiful look and a reasonable price – a combination that typically meant success – but it lasted in production for only three years, from 1937 to ’39. Today, it stands as one of the least successful innovations from one of the most innovative guitar companies of the pre-war years.
This article originally appeared in VG December 2011 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
(LEFT) 1936 NIOMA Hawaiian guitar and peghead. (RIGHT) 1936 NIOMA Hawaiian guitar and peghead.
NIOMA musical instruments from the 1930s and ’40s – with their vaguely Hawaiian-looking name – have mystified vintage-guitar enthusiasts over the decades when they’ve occasionally surfaced in retail shops and guitar shows.
The seven known models – three acoustic guitars, two dobro-like resophonics, and two electric lap steels – were oriented to those who made Hawaiian music. But the backstory of NIOMA represents far more than those surviving artifacts – it’s the untold saga of a 1930s franchise music school founded in Seattle – the National Institute of Music and Arts, or NIOMA.
On July 7, 1932, attorney D. Wilbur Zundel represented founders Harry Baxter and Mary M. Strnad in filing incorporation documents with the State of Washington. NIOMA’s headquarters, at 4519 University Way in Seattle’s Kalberg Building (now home to the Seattle Daily Times) were “spacious, modernly equipped studios” and the three comprised NIOMA’s initial Board of Trustees, though Baxter and Strnad remain a bit mysterious. Each lived within blocks of the school in 1933, but then disappeared from the business/telephone directories. It seems Baxter is the same Harry V. Baxter who was a one-time flautist with the Los Angeles Symphony Orchestra, longtime member of Los Angeles Flute Club, and in 1916, head of that city’s Baxter-Northup Music Company. He believed that “love for music and the desire to offer the advantages of a musical education would lead not only to the betterment of the individual, but to the social, civic, and moral uplift of the community.” Strnad resurfaced later in Los Angeles – where, intriguingly, a second branch was opened in 1934, at 951 S. Western Avenue.
NIOMA’s goals
NIOMA’s Articles of Incorporation make clear the goals of its founders; to “operate, maintain and conduct for profit, schools and studios for the teaching of all classes of instrumental and vocal music… all forms of dancing, radio broadcasting, dramatics, public speaking and all other forms of art, music and entertainment.” In addition, they intended to eventually “manufacture, buy, sell, export, import, publish and deal in violins, pianos, organs, phonographs, radios, musical instruments, musical appliances, accessories, musical supplies, musical publications, and sheet music.”
NIOMA was possibly inspired by Harry G. Stanley’s Cleveland-based Oahu School of Music, whose business model franchised hundreds of schools across America beginning in 1926. Stanley’s associated Oahu Publishing Company later began producing sheet music and song folios for their legions of students, and he also contracted with various established instrument manufacturers (including, reportedly, Harmony, Kay, National/Valco and Rickenbacker) to build “Oahu” guitars and amps. But, given the range of arts classes offered at NIOMA, Seattle’s school seems to have been even more ambitious.
Student Orchestras
When NIOMA was founded, the national economy couldn’t have been worse; the Great Depression, one would think, left few families with spare funds to send their kids to an arts school. But, NIOMA’s salesmen went door-to-door pitching $1 weekly lessons in clarinet, cello, trumpet, piano, viola, and violin, and by March of 1933, the shop’s musical director, Charles F. Hodell, had 400 kids performing pop standards like “All Through The Night,” “At Dawning,” “Believe Me If All Those Enduring Young Charms,” “Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes,” and “I Love You Truly” publicly in a gigantic orchestra.
Later that year, NIOMA conjured up what was perhaps the ultimate ploy to attract even younger students with an idea almost certain to spark the interest (and dues-paying!) of proud parents – that of forming the Seattle Baby Orchestra, which would be led by noted child educator Miss Margaret Gribbin. Then, circa 1934, the Seattle school had Herman Bueller leading its 30-member Junior Symphony Orchestra (which presumably featured more-advanced players selected from the overall pool of students). By ’35, NIOMA had several branches in Seattle and would soon have others in Washington towns like Aberdeen, Bellingham, Bremerton, Camas, Port Townsend, Tacoma, Vancouver, Wenatchee, and Yakima – along with Gresham, Hillsboro, Oregon City, and Salem in Oregon, and Boise, Idaho. In time, schools were also established in far-flung locations like Salt Lake City, El Paso, and Calgary.
The NIOMA Guitar Orchestra, Seattle, 1939. Note the two NIOMA resophonic guitarss in the back row.
The Guitar Orchestra
Later in ’35, NIOMA added guitar instruction. In Seattle, a 40-strong ensemble Guitar Orchestra was formed and featured scores of Spanish-style guitars along with even more Hawaiian-style lap-steel guitars. After a year of learning to steel on an acoustic, students could opt to move up to an electric lap-steel – but lessons increased to $2 each. The organization published a series of sheet-music folios – the “NIOMA Modern Plan of Hawaiian Guitar Instruction,” along with an individual song series (“NIOMA Hawaiian Melodies”) that included island classics like “Aloha Oe,” “Akahi Hoi,” and “Ahi Wela.” A variety of guitars can be spotted in the various surviving NIOMA band photos, but those relevant here were produced under the schools’ own brand.
NIOMA Hawaiian Guitar
This entry-level student-model guitar is a simple 12-frets-to-the-neck flat-top acoustic with a light-toned birch body and white-painted trim around the top edge and sound hole. It also has a NIOMA logo decal on the peghead, black-button tuning gears, a raised black nut (for Hawaiian steel playing), floating wooden bridge, and a rudimentary stamped metal tailpiece. This model (manufacturer’s date of “1/36” stamped into the back of the peghead) was, in all likelihood, produced for NIOMA schools by the Regal Musical Instrument Company, of Chicago, which also produced instruments for the Montgomery Ward’s department-store chain.
NIOMA Spanish Guitar
A step up in quality from the Hawaiian Guitar is this 14-fret Spanish-style (probably walnut) with white trim, arched top, and raised pickguard. The guitar also boasts a NIOMA logo decal on the headstock, black-button tuning gears, floating wooden bridge, and a stamped metal tailpiece. It offers a few more clues as to its origins, specifically a manufacturer’s model number (1169) inked inside and the code “VV W” stamped into the neck heel. Guitar/amp historian Mike Newton believes it was likely produced by the Chicago-based Harmony Company in 1937 or ’38, after it had bought the Stella and Sovereign product lines from the bankrupt Oscar Schmidt Company. “The body size and shape are pretty much identical to the ‘new, improved’ $9 model 1105 Stella guitar in the 1939/’40 catalog,” he said. “It’s also the same size and shape as several of the nicer Harmony flat-tops, one of which is the $11 Model 1193 – it even has the same peghead shape. The design of the stamped tailpiece would date it to 1937 or so. All of that, along with the inked 1196 – doubtless the Harmony model number – pretty much nails it as being a Harmony product.”
NIOMA Resophonic Guitar
This square-neck acoustic with metal resonator cone was produced by Regal, which made countless instruments under many brand names and supplied guitar bodies to the “big boys” on the West Coast – Dobro Manufacturing Company and National String Instrument Corporation. This 12-fret NIOMA has a Regal (Model 25) body with a sunburst finish, maple body binding (top and bottom), two f-shaped sound holes, a standard Regal brushed-metal resonator, rosewood neck, raised white nut, white-button tuning gears, slotted peghead with gold heat-stamped NIOMA logo, and a chrome tailpiece. An even more deluxe variation – the Regal (Model 37) body, with a solid headstock and two screened ports – was produced later.
NIOMA Lap Steel Guitar
This handsome solidbody electric lap-steel guitar – which was sold with a matching amplifier for about $70 – is clearly another student-quality instrument. The guitar’s wooden body is sheathed in gray marbled pearloid plastic, but other specimens exist in green. The angular, almost-Art-Deco body, boasts minimal features – a lone knob to control volume, a chrome palm rest, a jack on its butt, white-button tuning gears, and a small metal logo tacked to the peghead.
Guitar historian Lynn Wheelwright detected similarities between the NIOMA’s split-blade electromagnetic pickup and circa 1938-’40 National/Dobro designs. Newton concurs, adding that two NIOMA amps he has examined bore the names of different L.A.-based manufacturers – one was by Musical Electronics Inc., the other by Western States Wholesale Musical Corporation. Both are three-tube “shoebox” amps with one input jack and an on/off/Volume knob along with an 80 rectifier tube, a 6N7, 6V6, and a 6″ field coil speaker.
It’s also possible these NIOMA instruments were constructed by L.A.-based Dickerson Musical Instrument Manufacturing Company, which had been wholesaling electric lap steels and matching amplifiers to various guitar schools since at least 1939 – and some of those were clad in a very similar pearly plastic, with one model sharing an angular top profile. Of notable interest is the fact a guitar identical to this except for an additional Tone control knob was produced under the GEB brand (which was likely run by NIOMA stockholder W.C. Gebs), and Newton has suggested these guitars (and amps) were ordered through GEB.
(LEFT) 1930s NIOMA Resophonic Guitar and peghead. (RIGHT) NIOMA lap steel. ’30 NIOMA resophonic courtesy of Frank Ford. Nioma lap steel image courtesy of Lynn Wheelwright.
End of an Era
In 1935, NIOMA’s general manager, J.H. Ryan, offered a bit of hope about the economy’s negative effects on people, telling the Seattle Daily Times, “There is no better harbinger of deepening optimism than this increasing return to the cultural side of life by expenditure for these finer things.” And, as the economy improved, NIOMA continued expanding. The company began offering scholarships, holding composition contests, and even forged an affiliation with the national non-profit Junior Musicians of America.
By 1940, NIOMA had begun referring to its Los Angeles branch as the “main school,” and the following year, the Seattle shop moved to 4719 University Way. The NIOMA era likely saw its crowning achievement in ’48, when 200 Seattle students traveled to L.A., where they joined thousands of other young musicians in a mass concert at the Hollywood Bowl, which was broadcast nationally via radio on August 15. In 1951, Seattle’s NIOMA moved again, to 4224 University Way, and then downtown, to 1001-5 New World Life Building, in ’52.
By then, America was experiencing a whole new post-war dawn. The Hawaiian and exotica music fads of recent times were fading, while country/Western music and rock and roll were about to make huge inroads with the record-buying hordes, and public schools began ramping up their music-education programs. In December of ’52, the National Institute of Music and Arts’ directors and stockholders met in Los Angeles, and President A.W Ryan, Vice-President Rose McNeil Stromberg, Secretary M.M. Strnad, and various shareholders (J.H. Ryan, W.C. Gebs, and Wilbur Zundel) all signed a document that effectively dissolved NIOMA after a generation of local guitarists (and other players) were educated and offered an opportunity to gain stage experience.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Just three of the many Chet Atkins album covers that featured Gretsch guitars.
Consider American guitar manufacturers that have been in business during the last 100 years and the different instruments they’ve produced. Only a handful have become cultural icons – given no information except “Les Paul,” “Stratocaster,” “Telecaster,” and “White Falcon,” even non-players can identify them as guitars. It’s not uncommon to hear “Telecaster? That’s a Fender guitar isn’t it?” Many non-players also identify certain artists with specific instruments, and some can even name specific artists and song combinations that featured a particular instrument.
While the Les Paul, Stratocaster, Telecaster, and White Falcon are clearly in the first echelon of cultural icons, Gretsch’s Country Gentleman is ensconced at the upper end of the second echelon, due largely to the impact of Chet Atkins and George Harrison, two of its most-celebrated players.
A 1960s Gretsch Country Gentleman.
The Chet Atkins Country Gentleman (the model’s official name) had at least two distinct incarnations (and several variations) during its long life span: originally as a single cutaway model and later as a double cutaway version. The development of the original single-cutaway model probably began in late 1956/early ’57, years which saw competition in the electric guitar market really begin to escalate. Gretsch and Gibson were pursuing very similar design/development paths during this time period. The parallels and timing are quite intriguing. Both companies were working steadily on what they perceived to be the next generation of electric guitars semi-solid with a much thinner body and electronics that didn’t hum. Gibson was developing its legendary humbucking pickup, and the ES-335 – and Gretsch was working on its humbucking pickup, the Filter’Tron, and what was to become the Country Gentleman model.
Grestch’s earliest forays into this new generation of guitars were shaped by artist/endorser/guitar superstar Chet Atkins who had experienced some noise problems with the DeArmond pickups used on his Chet Atkins Hollow Body Model 6120 and Chet Atkins Solid Body Model 6121. Chet was a “no frills” guy, and while delighted to have an endorsement deal, he wasn’t completely enamored with the “flashiness” of his 6120 and 6121. He preferred a high-end, no nonsense instrument with quality design and construction rather than making a visual statement. He was also interested in increasing an instrument’s sustain and thus was a proponent of solid construction – from the nut to the end pin. He made several recommendations to achieve this (including using a metal nut and bridge) and even suggested that having a closed body might make the instrument sustain more. The earliest version of Chet’s vision/philosophy was produced in mid 1957 and has come to be known by Gretsch aficionados as the “White Gentleman” (appropriately named for its white colored top). Bearing no official name, just a lable affixed to the bottom of the pickguard with the model number 6122, these instruments appear to be Country Gent prototypes. And very few were produced. Three or four have surfaced and all of them have serial numbers in the 23000 range. It’s clear from examining these “White Gents” that Gretsch was developing one of the earliest semi-solid, thin body electric guitars.
The Country Gentleman (numerically designated in Gretsch catalogs as Model PX6122) made its official debut in late 1957, as a 1958 model. While the name “Country Gentleman” could aptly describe Chet Atkins himself, it’s more likely in reference to a song of the same name that Chet originally recorded in 1953. As a high-end model (it was the top of the line in the Chet Atkins series), it was produced in limited numbers. And given the $500 price tage, a substantial sum of money in 1958, it sold in limited numbers (in Gretsch’s electric line, only the White Falcon was more expensive). Produced as a single cutaway from model year 1958 through model year 1961, there’s a simple understated elegance to this version of the Gent. Sporting a closed 17” wide “electrotone” body (with solid bracing and simulated f-holes), Gretsch’s new humbucking pickup (the Ray Butts-designed Filter’Tron), and its trademark metal nameplate on the headstock, the Gent was fairly conservative in its appearance. Its walnut/mahogany stained finish was quite a contrast to the rest of the Grestch line which featured wild colors like Oriental Red, Bordeaux Burgundy, Cadillac Green, Lotus Ivory, Bamboo Yellow, Copper Mist, Spotlight Sparkle silver, Smoke Green, Jaguar Tan, and Amber Red/Orange. From the sophisticated Art-Deco stairstep Grover Imperial tuners, to the ebony fingerboard with the neo-classical position markers, to the exquisitely figured curly maple used to construct many Gents from this period, it’s clear that this is a very fine, high-end instrument. Just look at our beautiful examples from 1959, 1960, and ’61.
By ’61, Gretsch had decided to revamp its line of electric guitars. The single biggest change was the decision to phase out the single cutaway construction in favor or a double cutaway design. The Country Gentleman made this transition in late 1961. Other significant changes included a snap-on back pad for more comfortable playing, and the addition of two felt “string mutes” (one for the bass strings and one for the treble strings) that could be raised or lowered by dialing up the appropriate knob. Still a high quality instrument, the Gent retained the Grover Imperial tuners, dual Filter’Tron picups, and metal nameplate. As with the single cutaway Gent, many of these early double cuts continued to feature beautifully figured maple tops.
A 1962 Gretsch Country Gentleman.
In Feburary 1964 the Beatles visited America for the first time. Their appearance on the “Ed Sullivan Show” marked the beginning of the “British Invasion” and is touted as “the day popular music in America was changed forever.” By this time George Harrison had been a Gretsch player for several years (his first quality American electric guitar was a Duo Jet) and when he appeared on the Sullivan show playing a 1963 Country Gentleman (with a very dark mahogany stained finish that on television looked black), this marked the beginning of the Country Gent’s rapid rise to the role of cultural icon. It also marked the beginning of a huge increase in the production of the Country Gent and of Gretsch guitars in general. If Gretsch had a rough equivalent to Fender’s Stratocaster in terms of production numbers/volume, the “post Sullivan appearance” 6122 was it. Gretsch sold thousands of Country Gents based on George Harrison’s unofficial “endorsement.” Gretsch couldn’t produce them fast enough and, for quite a while, demand far exceeded supply. Today, even though the single-cutaway Gents are much harder to come by, the ’63 version, with stair-step tuners and “flip-up” string mutes with red felt pads, may well be the most sought-after by collectors.
Like most of Gretsch’s other instruments, the double-cutaway version of the Country Gent went through many changes in its production life, including different pickup configurations, truss-rod systems, tuners, mutes, control knobs, and closed/open f-shaped sound holes (our example from ’67 has a single string mute for all six strings and large button Grover tuners.) There were very few 12-string versions produced, quite possibly only one or two.
This article originally appeared in VG Classics #02 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Forrest Lee, Sr. was a country music legend most folks have likely never heard tell of. So why should they care about a tribute to the man and his gospel music? Because his son can play a guitar. And his son has some fine picking friends. All of which adds up to one stunner of an album.
Lee, Sr. boasted a long, if not stellar, career in country music prior to his death in 2010. He toured in the ’50s with the Grand Ole Opry, and recorded both gospel and honky-tonk. Buck Owens played guitar on some of his early recordings, and his songs were covered by luminaries including Jim Reeves, Flatt and Scruggs, and more. Still, he never got that big break.
Enter Lee, Jr. The son has cut several CDs of his own, builds Forrest Custom guitars, and can pick a mean Tele. He rounded up some pals and masterminded this homage to his father.
Among Lee’s buddies on this album are guitarslingers Albert Lee, Johnny Hiland, Redd Volkaert, and John Pettifer – often all trading licks and solos on the same song.
They’re swapping those leads with pedal-steel maestro Jay Dee Maness, who played with Gram Parsons and on the Byrds’ Sweetheart of the Rodeo with Ray Stevens, Vince Gill (as one of the Buckaroos), and with the Desert Rose Band. And pianists Bobby Teesdale and Joe Lamont also add in their two cents.
The result is one of the hottest country guitar albums of the year.
On Lee, Sr.’s “King Of Kings,” there’s so much twang going down, that Lee, Jr. provides a roadmap of the soloists. “John The Baptist” kicks things off righteously with wild piano and sizzling guitarwork. “Good Morning Lord” is rife with stylish chicken picking. Throughout, Lee, Jr., Albert Lee, and Pettifer all work “bender” guitars.
Gospel music’s not your thing, you say? Fear not. The best songs on this album are chock full of great picking, rollicking riffs, and hot licks. Not every song’s a winner, but some are great.
All of which makes us wonder: So if this is the gospel music, when do we get the sequel album of Lee, Sr.’s honky-tonk tunes?
This article originally appeared in VG‘s September ’14 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Given the company’s long history, it’s surprising that Washburn hasn’t released more models based on original designs. US Music (Washburn’s corporate parent) has begun to take some steps to remedy this with the Warren Haynes Signature Acoustic, based on the company’s 1937 Solo Deluxe.
The Warren Haynes WDS5249 is hand-built in Washburn’s Buffalo Grove, Illinois, facility. It uses Adirondack spruce for its top and bracing with solid rosewood sides and back. The body style and shape fit somewhere between a jumbo and a grand auditorium, with a body that measures 41/2″ at the front shoulder and 43/4″ near the back. The guitar sports a 1930s-style zipper herringbone inlay on the back and rosette, three-ply binding on the top, a hand-cut celluloid pickguard, a solid ebony bridge and fretboard, bone saddle and nut, Grover butterbean tuners, and a bookmatched two-piece back. With its lofty list price of $3,995, the Warren Haynes Signature Acoustic faces stiff competition from other offerings at the same level, including the Gibson True Vintage J-45 and the Martin 000-18 Golden Era 1937 Acoustic. How does the 1937 Solo Deluxe stand up to the competition?
Upon first inspection, the finish was nearly perfect with only two small flaws on the body. The clear topcoat seemed a bit thick where it met the bound fretboard near the sound hole; instead of a crisp edge, the rounded seam was filled in with lacquer. The sunburst on the review sample was especially smooth, with a gentle transition between the lighter and darker portions, and was not too yellow, red, or brown, with a nice vintage aura. The headstock deserves a special mention, at nearly 0.625″ thick with a unique Washburn inlay at the top.
In hand, the review guitar’s action at the nut was higher than ideal, and string height at the bridge was higher than needed to prevent buzzing. It could be that dealers perform setup on Washburn acoustics (ours, shipped direct, did not have that luxury). The neck’s slight V-shape increases in prominence while moving toward the body. It also has a chunkier, more-vintage profile. The frets, however, are anything but vintage. Larger than standard in width and height, they are very well finished, especially on the ends, where they seamlessly meet the five-ply fretboard binding.
The Warren Haynes model is capable of producing wide dynamics, yet also sensitive to a light nuanced touch. Instead of compressing dynamics, it gets louder when played harder. Even a heavy pick stroked through the strings at maximum velocity produced a well-defined sound that was never mushy. It also responded well to light fingerstyle playing.
The Warren Haynes model has excellent sustain that’s quite even across all the strings, while its harmonic balance with the factory-supplied strings was good with a bit more emphasis on the top three than bottom three strings. There was more than adequate bass extension, though the bass lacked the rich harmonic complexity of a Gibson J-45 TV. Given how newly made the review sample was (it still had a strong smell of curing finish) some of these additional harmonics could very well “play in” as the guitar ages.
Defining the Warren Haynes Signature Acoustic isn’t easy. It does not sound like a Gibson, Martin, Collings, or Taylor. It has a very strong primary note projection with somewhat damped harmonics. Combined with its volume and projection, this primary tonality makes it hold up well in mixes and ensemble situations. Although it lacks the rumble of a vintage dreadnaught, the guitar has ample pop and power on its low E.
Some guitars, like some guitarists, don’t follow the herd. The Washburn Warren Haynes Signature Acoustic is such an instrument. With a unique sound and feel, it could appeal to those who don’t want to play what everyone else is playing. Obviously, given its price, Washburn isn’t expecting to sell thousands of these guitars (they do offer an Asian-built version at $599), but for those who can ante up the coin, Washburn’s latest signature acoustic offers a distinctive new option in vintage reissue instruments.
This article originally appeared in VG December 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
As a rule of thumb, practice amps are a compromise. Blissfully portable, they typically lack tone and features. Yet whether in a bedroom or hotel room, a practice amp should help inspire an artist by making practice more pleasure than chore. Yamaha’s THR10 is a definite step in the right direction.
On its surface, the THR10’s small footprint gives the impression of a typical lunchbox-style amp. But don’t be fooled. A 10-watt (five watts in each channel) feature-packed combo, it runs on eight AA batteries or the included AC adaptor, and its control layout includes a tap tempo/tuner feature, five presets, a rotary control for selecting among its eight amp models, a Gain control, master Volume, three-band Tone control, Effects selector, Reverb/Delay control, and individual controls for the guitar Volume and the USB/aux inputs. Its sound is relayed via two onboard speakers.
The amp’s modeling section, as well as its effects section, employ Yamaha’s VCM technologies similar to that used in their high-end digital mixers and effects. The amp simulations include Clean (classic 6L6 circuit), Crunch (American Class A), Lead (British Class A), Brit Hi (British high-gain), Modern (6L6 high-gain), Bass, ACO (acoustic/electric), and Flat (good for instruments other than guitar). Connections include a standard 1/4″ input, 1/8″ TRS aux input, 1/4″ headphone jack, and a USB jack that links the amp to a computer or iPad, where the user can edit its onboard effects, save them as presets, and record to the computer/tablet’s hard drive using the included Cubase LE software.
Powering up, the THR10 welcomes the user with a warm, simulated tube glow behind its metal grille, courtesy of a few amber LEDs. Plugging in, its modeling circuitry renders reasonably realistic tube tones, all with a touch-sensitive feel that responds to pick/finger attack while producing overtones and a warm overall sound. This little amp’s combination of well-designed drivers and ports helps it produce a surprising degree of low-end response and very accurate midrange – not at all boxy-sounding like so many small amps. Each model has its own tone and voicing, accurate to its namesake, which allows dialing in a variety of sounds from county chicken pickin’ to full-on metal.
The amps effects are split into two categories – one for modulation-style effects like chorus, flanging, phase and tremolo, the other for reverbs and delays – and each has their own controls. The effects get deeper and more intense as they’re dialed up, while the delay time is set via the tap-tempo button. In general, the effects have a spacious, high-quality sound that need little, if any, tweaking. Most newer practice amps are fitted with an Aux input for a music player, the THR10’s sound gives tracks a better, more-realistic sound. Preamp selections for acoustic/electric, bass, and an uncolored one called Flat expand the THR10’s versatility and make it great for a range of instruments including electric guitar, acoustic guitar, and bass.
The Yamaha THR10 is small, light, has studio-quality effects, interfaces with personal electronics, and provides a variety of tones that make you want to plug in and play – like a good practice amp should.
This article originally appeared in VG November 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Egnater has just amplified its Tweaker line with a new 40-watt, two channel, 1×12 combo. This amp has a Celestion Elite GH-50 speaker in a half-closed, birch-plywood cabinet and weighs a portly 53 pounds – though as many tube enthusiasts know, more weight often adds up to more tone. Let’s put this little chunker to the test.
The Tweaker 40 sports two 6L6 power tubes and a trio of 12AX7 preamp tubes. Before we get to the extensive tone-shaping controls in the pre-amp, let’s look at the back. The combo is unusual in that most of its rear-panel jacks face downward and are in a recessed cavity. In that spot are the A.C. jack, buffered effects loop with level, footswitch jack, and speaker-cabinet output. Aesthetics include a black Tolex skin with a cane grille and the Egnater logo. It’s very attractive and has a Bluesbreaker vibe, especially with the top-facing control section.
In case you were wondering, the “tweak” in the Tweaker 40 is an extensive array of mini-switches that work to complement the three-band EQ that services both channels. Each channel has its own Gain and Master controls with mini switches for British, American, and AC (i.e., Vox-like) tone colors. The channels each have four other mini “voicing” switches, covering tone tweaks like Tight and Bright, Vintage and Modern, Clean and Hot, and Mid Cut. Combined with the footswitch that picks channels and effects on/off, it gives the player has a huge array of tonal colors to choose from.
Plugging in with a Strat, Les Paul, and an Ibanez archtop, I was able to run the gamut of tones from A to Z, clean to shred dirty. There are plenty of fat, clean tones here – the Tweaker has surprising girth for such a small amp – and lots of dirty tones. Pop the mini-toggle from Clean to Hot and suddenly, you have some serious, hi-gain metal tones. To stoke the party further, I plugged the speaker-out jack into a 2×12 extension cabinet and got some hellaciously big tones. It’s difficult to avoid cracking a smile at the sounds that emanate from the Tweaker.
Ultimately, you shouldn’t let the Tweaker’s diminutive size fool you. The amp’s weight is an indication of its quality construction and a big honkin’ transformer. The combo also has a wider cabinet, which helps push air (and tone), and it delivers fat, Cream-era tones when paired with a humbucker-equipped guitar. This Egnater delivers 40 loud watts, certainly enough to be gig ready. Add an extension cab, and look out world!
This article originally appeared in VG January 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Howlers: Banjo man Ben Plasse, guitarist Jared Green, and fiddler Ian Craft.
Like a long-lost radio show from the ’50s suddenly coming to life on your radio in the late nighttime hours, this hard-driving string trio summons forth the sounds of old-time bluegrass, vintage country, and roaring rockabilly. The Howlin’ Brothers have one foot tapping time in tradition, the other kicking down the doors.
The howling here is courtesy of banjoist and bassist Ben Plasse, Ian Craft on fiddle and banjo, and Jared Green on guitar and harmonica. All three share vocal duties.
The trio formed at New York state’s Ithaca College and self-released four albums: Tragic Mountain Songs, Long Hard Year, Baker St. Blues, and the limited-edition compilation of live shots, Old Time All The Time. Then they signed with Readymade Records to cut their first label disc, Howl, which arrived in 2013, closely followed by an EP, The Sun Studio Sessions. Now they’re back. Call it inspiration.
This new album is a gumbo of influences. It kicks off with “Pour It Down,” a raucous, rocking call-and-response tune that sounds like a vintage Sun track. “Monroe” is a sweet, uptempo Cajun romp, while “World Spinning Round” is pure heartbreak.
Green picks his guitar with a fury. As testament, his Taylor acoustic is almost as worn as Willie Nelson’s famous “Trigger” – with an “extra” sound hole created by too much hard strumming.
“Hard Times” launches with a gorgeous banjo intro and more lovely riffs and soloing from all three. They’re joined on this tune (as well as “Sing A Sad Song”) by band fan Ricky Skaggs and his mandolin.
Trouble was produced and engineered by Brendan Benson, of the Raconteurs (who also added washtub bass on “Boogie”). The sound is suitably vintage – warm, woody, and intimate.
Throughout, the trio’s auspicious vocals are backed by stylish picking, but it’s the energy and soul here that make this music truly howl.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s October ’14 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The route taken by Jeff Golub in making Train Keeps A Rolling is unlike that followed by any other artist. Just as his previous record, Three Kings, was released, Golub suffered the collapse of one of his optic nerves, which caused loss of sight in that eye. The condition doesn’t typically affect the sight in the sufferer’s other eye, but in a very rare occurrence, Golub’s other optic nerve similarly collapsed, leaving him sightless. Then, a very unfortunate series of events was capped in September of 2012, when he fell onto subway tracks in New York City. He was briefly dragged along the tracks as bystanders and his guide dog, Luke, tried to help, and fortunately, wasn’t seriously injured.
The adversity, as one might expect, forced a pause in his career. But there was never a doubt in Golub’s mind about what he would do. “Guitar and music are more than my love, they’re my livelihood,” he said. “So, I needed to adjust, practically overnight.” And he did so remarkably, cancelling only one gig.
Getting back on the horse was important to the veteran, whose early career was spent as a side man who worked with Billy Squier, Rod Stewart, Tina Turner, Peter Wolf, and numerous others. And since the 1990s, he has become a staple of smooth-jazz radio, injecting some sorely needed soul into the format, especially through his label, Avenue Blue records.
A major factor in helping him get back into playing was luthier Roger Sadowsky, who went out of his way to help Golub adapt.
“Roger has been great about putting braille dots on my guitars, and it really makes a difference. I didn’t look at my guitar much when I could see – once in a while to get my bearings. Guitarists may not think they look that often, but most would be surprised if they had to adjust to how much they do look!” And, a musical positive has emerged. “I hear more now. I hear differently, more authentically, which I think was inevitable.” Before it happened, though, Golub recalled a chat with keyboardist Henry Butler, who has been blind since infancy and told Golub his hearing may become more developed. Butler told him it wouldn’t be an overnight thing, but Golub noticed the improvement.
The new record is a mix of rock, soul, R&B, and jazz that features veteran British keyboardist Brian Auger.
“Bud Harner suggested him when we were looking for a B-3 player. We rehearsed the day before we went into the studio, then went in for three days and cut the record.” The tracks include older Auger songs from his days in the band Oblivion Express, “Happiness is Just Around the Bend” and “Whenever You’re Ready,” and some inspired covers including the Police’s “Walking on the Moon,” Curtis Mayfield’s “Pusherman,” Willie Dixon’s “I Love the Life I Live.” and Ace’s “How Long.”
“Part of what Bud does as a co-producer is come up with covers. It, of course, has to go by me, and I think every artist co-produces his CD whether he gets credit or not.” Also helping were friends like David Pack, Christopher Cross, and Auger’s Oblivion Express bandmate, Alex Ligertwood. Golub says it was easy to play music with Auger, especially given that he was familiar with his previous work. “When I was 15 years old, I picked up a copy of Closer to It by the Oblivion Express and it changed my life.”
As with much of his music the past 20 years, Golub says the groove is the main thing, “The vibe of the record is soul-jazz. It has a lot of Latin grooves – a lot of grooves, period. My last couple have been blues records, but I’m going back to what I did before.”
Golub’s main guitar is his red ’65 Fender Strat with a swapped bridge pickup. “I put a Seymour Duncan Full Shred Humbucker in it, which is the closest thing I’ve found to a PAF.” He also uses a ’59 Gibson ES-345 and an Epiphone Sheraton from the mid ’90s. When recording, he uses Fuchs amplifiers and a Mesa Boogie Tremoverb, with an overdrive pedal as the only effect.
The album cover shows Golub and his dog, Luke, perched near railroad tracks, which he says references what could have been a fatal accident.
“I came out of it with a couple of scrapes. The emergency medical technician who gave me a lift to the hospital said, ‘We don’t pull people off the subway. You obviously have some unfinished business down here’.”
This article originally appeared in VG January 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
One of the most innovative companies of the pre-World-War-II era, National found out quickly that innovation was a double-edged sword. Just as their resonator guitars of the late 1920s made the acoustic Hawaiian guitars of Hermann Weissenborn obsolete, electric guitars of the mid 1930s – some of them made of National’s own making – threatened to deal a similar fate to National’s resonator guitars within a decade of their introduction.
Along with the Hawaiian Silvo, National offered a metalbody tenor guitar and a metalbody mandolin fitted with the Silvo control plate. Both were priced same as the Hawaiian, $60. Curiously, National did not offer a standard six-string Spanish-neck Silvo.
