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Mr. Henry Juszkiewicz, Gibson’s CEO, runs a tight ship, as evidenced
by our August 2007 cover story on the Custom Shop, which has been
generating quite a stir on our website. If you check out some of the
online comments, you’ll notice criticisms leveled at us for not delving
deeper into their day-to-day operations to provide a more intimate look
at what many imagine to be the grown-up version of Willy Wonka’s
chocolate factory. Trust me; we wanted to do just that, but the folks at
Gibson told us that certain trade secrets need to remain just that.
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The truth is, Henry presides over all
things Gibson, and who am I to
argue? I know guitars, not business,
and I’m unable to look back fondly
on the Norlin-era stuff that was
available when I started playing.
In fact, I level the majority
of my current Fender-bias
squarely on my first Lester;
a particularly heinous, 4000-
pound LP Deluxe, made
from approximately 40
pieces of mahogany.
No matter how you feel
about Gibson’s press policies,
at least thank them for
not making crap like that
anymore. And to specifically
give Henry props, he greenlighted
the BFG, and for that, if
I may paraphrase the title from
one of my favorite books, “God
Bless You, Mr. Juszkiewicz.” This
is one of the first non-vintage-reissue
solid bodies I’ve been excited
about in ages, and it just happens to
be the most inflammatory thing to hit
rock n’ roll since the Sex Pistols. Okay,
maybe that’s an overstatement, but the
BFG has been the cause of more than a few
fervent forum postings.
The majority of the ruckus is due to the
BFG’s Flintstones-meets-the Stooges (yes,
the band) styling, which is even more pronounced
in person than in photos, making
the selection of Cheetah Chrome to promote
the BFG more than appropriate. The
CNC marks on the top aren’t as pronounced
in person as they seem to be in photos, and
the lack of a truss-rod cover and wooden
knobs just screams punk rawk. Apart from
having to admit that I am now part of a coveted
demographic group, it appeals to me.
I hesitate to compare the BFG’s spartan
appointments to the space-age minimalism
of the Telecaster or the plain-Jane handsomeness
of Martin’s D-18, but it does fit
in with that utilitarian group as the tattooed,
ex-biker uncle with a heart of gold. I’ve
never had a penchant for satin finishes, but
the dull finish works here, adding to the nobullshit
vibe of the guitar.
Speaking of no BS, the guitar comes about
as well equipped as a survival knife – which
is high-praise indeed. It features a P-90 at
the neck, a Burstbucker 3 at the bridge,
one tone and two volume controls, 3-way
pickup selector switch, and the second
most critiqued aspect of the guitar after its
appearance – the kill switch. This enables
the quick on/off effect heard on the fadeout
of Bowie’s “John, I’m Only Dancing,”
without having to kill the volume on either
pickup, invariably ending with your forgetting
to turn it back up before embarrassing yourself
on the next tune. The BFG ships with
the standard Stopbar/Tune-o-matic bridge
setup, and sports Grover tuners. Various finishes
have differently treated hardware, with
Distressed Black Chrome on the Trans Black
and Trans Gold finished models, and Gun
Metal on the Trans Cherry units.
The factory setup was decent, with one
minor niggle – the G and B strings were
binding a bit at the nut. Another nit to pick
is that no one went around the edges of
the guitar with a sander or router to take
the edge off, rewarding enthusiastic strumming
with a sharp pain in the forearm,
although it could come in handy for cheese
slicing. Luckily, my generous belly saved me
from suffering the same fate from the back
edge. The action was set to factory specs:
5/64” at the 12th fret on the bass side,
3/64” on the treble, with no fretting out or
buzzing after dropping the action down to
3/64” on both sides.
The neck was nice and straight, sporting
.004” relief measured at the 8th fret,
although this could be attributable to the
remnants of Tropical Depression Erin, which
was keeping things damp around here. The
intonation was pretty far off, but thankfully,
no odd moves were needed to get it dialed.
Something else that seemed peculiar was
the height of the Burstbucker 3, but this
was mostly a visual hiccup due to the lack
of pickup surrounds. There is plenty of black
tape around the windings to offer protection
from any errant picking.
I’ve always put a lot of stock in how a guitar
sounds unplugged, and the BFG sounded
great; really woody, articulate and loud, like
a rock n’ roll machine even before being
amplified. Plugging in the BFG took nothing
away from the unamplified vibe, with both
the BB3 and P-90 adding rather than taking
away from the guitar’s solid fundamental
tone. It took me a while to quit trying to
change pickups via the kill-switch, which is
relegated to the spot traditionally occupied
by the pickup selector. Each pickup has its
own volume control while the single
tone knob serves double duty. This
didn’t bother me, but hardcore LP
fanatics may take a while to adjust.
The neck position P-90 is phenomenal,
offering up really great tones, suitable
for roots rock, blues, even some jazz,
although I felt like a proper git when
attempting “Take Five” on something
this primal. The neck pickup
would be apropos for protoblues,
proto-rock – pretty
much proto-anything. The
Burstbucker 3 also matches
well with the BFG,
with its medium output
being a great match volume-
wise with the P-90.
The sound of the two
pickups combined was a
real treat, adding the BB3’s
warm, crunchy definition to
the P-90’s hollow-ish mids. I
honestly figured part of the review process
would include envisioning replacement
suggestions for the stock pickups, but the
P-90 and BB3 suit the hot-rod aesthetic
really well.
The Final Mojo
The BFG is first and foremost a rock n’
roll machine, the Les Paul equivalent of a
primer-black ’32 flathead Ford, galvanizing
opinions in much the same way. Either you
like pinstripes on primer or you don’t. If you
have the SuicideGirls bookmarked, and you
play “Trash” by the New York Dolls when
scoping out a new amp, check this out. If
you buy guitars based on their tops, give
this one a pass. It just won’t make sense.
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Gibson Guitar Corp.
MSRP $1399
gibson.com
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