Pawn Shop ’51
The Pawn Shop ’51 is clearly inspired
by Fender’s first three and most
important solidbody designs. But
this particular synthesis of visual
elements—which most resembles
a shrunken ’51 P-bass—first saw
the light in the form of the much-adored
Squier ’51. Although the
Squier ’51 sold well, got favorable
reviews, and inspired a rabid (and
still flourishing) cult of hot-rodders
who dug its pickup-switching options, its
combination of classic Fender design cues,
and, above all, its rock-bottom price, Fender
pulled the plug on it before long.
The Fender ’51 changes little of the
basic configuration of the Squier ’51, but
there are refinements aplenty that make it a
smooth
and nasty player—not to mention
a perfect embodiment of the Pawn Shop
Series ethos. Fenders of the 1950s were
no-frills machines, and that same design
austerity informs the look of the ’51: The
glossy butterscotch body and single-ply
black pickguard are sharp and startlingly
simple, and the beautifully yellowed maple
neck, topped with a Telecaster headstock
with a “spaghetti logo,” is a perfect fit for
the guitar’s minimalist visual identity. It’s a
guitar that looks rock-steady, ready to play,
and able to take a beating.
There isn’t much hardware on the ’51.
Kluson-style tuners keep things looking period
authentic, and the hardtail bridge with
six individually adjustable saddles is pure
simplicity. The Tele-esque control set looks
about as simple as they come, too—and it’s
key to the guitar’s more Frankenstein-ian
nature. The Volume knob is also a push/pull
pot that splits the coils of the humbucker in
the bridge position. Where there would ordinarily
be a Tone knob on a Telecaster, there’s
a 3-position pickup selector.
Rippin’ and Roarin’
The lack of a Tone knob obviously makes
the ’51 a little less flexible in terms of
tone, but the sounds you get in trade
with the splittable humbucker are cool
and plentiful. With both coils in action,
the humbucker is all fangs and sting. But
when you’re so inclined, a nimble finger
on the Volume knob can keep the ’51’s
more slashing personality traits in check.
Gunning full throttle with the humbucker
puts a lot of biting high-mid tone at your
fingertips—especially through a wide-open
6L6 amp. If you’re comfortable in that
range and sharp with your pick attack, the
’51 can give you a positively Jimmy Page-like
authority that makes bluesy jabs sound
fresh and totally
nasty. Roll off the Volume
a notch or two, and you’re in a sweet
spot for rootsy jangle tones. Splitting the
humbucker’s coil gives you a distinctly less
girthy tone and lower output but remains
quite cutting, with an almost Tele-like kick
and a brightness that probably gets an assist
from the maple fretboard.
The ’51’s neck pickup is a Fender Texas
Special, which is a beautiful match for the
guitar’s architecture. It’s both a little rounder
and hotter than what you’d typically hear
in a Stratocaster, with exceptional definition
and a sweet responsiveness to pick attack
that, again, makes even the simplest blues
bends sing and beckons you to slow down
and let each note linger a bit.
The ’51’s substantial-yet-slinky feel
didn’t make me want to speed up my playing,
either. It has medium-jumbo frets, and
the C-shaped neck profile is neither too
wide nor too flat, inviting languid bends
and slow, wobbling finger vibrato. In all,
the ’51 is a beautifully simple, comfortable,
intuitive, and inviting guitar that can
gnash, purr, and sing. If you’re accustomed
to really working your Tone knob, the lack
of one here may get under your skin, but if
you’re comfortable finding tonal nuances in
your fingertips or tend to play on the more
aggressive end of the tone spectrum anyway,
you may never miss it. There are plenty of
sounds in this guitar to go around.
Buy if...
blues and hard-rocking tones—peppered with some ’50s snap—are your flavors of choice.
Skip if...
your bread and butter is working the Tone knob.
Rating...
