I’ve been an avid Steinberger
collector for many years, so
I’m always on the hunt for rare
and unusual iterations of the
headless, graphite-and-carbon fiber
basses and guitars that
Ned Steinberger debuted in
1979—and that subsequently
garnered fame in the hands of
players such as Rush’s Geddy
Lee and Edward Van Halen.
Ned is not a player himself,
but he got interested in the
world of instrument design
through noted bass luthier
Stuart Spector. The two began
a collaboration, and the experience
sparked Ned’s interest in
basses. Because Ned was not a
musician, he had no experience
or preconceived notions of how
a bass should look or perform.
Arguably, this clean-slate
approach was largely responsible
for Ned’s early success—just as
it had been for Leo Fender’s in
the ’50s and ’60s. Leo relied
primarily on customer feedback
for his design adjustments
and modifications. With these
notable examples in mind (and
plenty of others to draw from),
one might argue that not being
a musician can have a lot of
benefits for a bright, innovative
luthier—rather than looking at
things the way they have been
or “ought” to be done, the
builder can observe problems
and brainstorm solutions that
aren’t hindered by tradition.
Steinberger Sound was a
relatively small manufacturer located in Newburgh,
New York. From 1976 until
1991, I owned a guitar shop
about 20 miles away in
Poughkeepsie, and I was an
authorized Steinberger dealer
throughout the ’80s and ’90s (I
now work at headlessusa.com
a vintage Steinberger dealer).
Since I lived so close to the
original shop, I often visited
it—sometimes to introduce an
artist to Ned, and sometimes to
bring a customer in to order a
custom instrument.
Prior to finding the first composite-construction
Steinberger prototype (which he affectionately
refers to as “the platypus” or “missing link”), the
author had never come across a Steinberger
bass that was older than this early production
L2.
Over the course of my
Steinberger hunting years, I’ve
discovered that they built a lot
of custom and one-off instruments—
a fact that’s a double edged
sword for a collector. It
makes it exciting to find a rare
and unusual piece, but it also
makes it rather expensive to
acquire one.
A number of years ago, I was
fortunate enough to find and
purchase one of the earliest production
Steinberger basses—the
earliest I had encountered up to
that point. Most of the details
corresponded with the production
version of the original L2
bass, but there were definitely a
few prototype-like features, such
as the lack of both a serial number
and a cover for the 9V battery
compartment. It was apparently
one of the first half-dozen
or so basses that were distributed
to some of the world’s foremost
players. I’ve since heard
that basses like this one were
loaned to such legendary bassists
as fusion god Jaco Pastorius,
the Stones’ Bill Wyman, session
ace Leland Sklar, and the Dixie
Dregs’ Andy West.
Unique features on
this early production
L2 include the pickup
covers’ large, embossed
EMG logos,
as well as the visible
hex heads securing
the front plate.
I’d heard rumors over
the years about a missing
Steinberger bass prototype.
I encountered a photograph
of a bizarre-looking bass that
appeared to have a composite
neck but also seemed to have
a headstock—only at the body
end. The story I heard was that
this bass had been Ned’s very
first attempt at a compositeconstruction
bass, but unconfirmed
rumors floating around
the Steinberger community said
it had been lost or stolen at the
time, and that it had not been
seen again since. This meant
it had been missing in action
for almost 35 years! This tale
reminded me of stories of the
elusive Gibson Moderne guitar,
of which a confirmed example
has never (yet) been found.
Now that I have a business
dedicated to my love of
all things Steinberger, many
customers contact me directly
when they have a Steinberger
guitar or bass they are interested
in selling. But I still spend
plenty of time surfing the
web—usually eBay, Craigslist,
or the many internet forums on
guitars and basses.
In early August of 2011, I
came across an internet listing
for a supposed Steinberger
bass that looked unlike any
Steinberger I had ever encountered.
In fact, the seller apologized
in the ad for even using
the term “Steinberger” in the
title, because he was fairly convinced
it wasn’t one of Ned’s
designs. He claimed to have
found it at an auction for repossessed
storage rental units in
Texas. He posted lots of photos
and described it as very unusual
looking, but said it “sounded
great.” I emailed and asked
him to contact me so we could
discuss the bass in more detail.
After discussing it for a few
minutes, we agreed on a very
reasonable price—well under
$1000! I paid him via PayPal
and asked him to send me the
tracking number when the bass
was on its way.
Of course, I was totally
thrilled—I was fairly sure I’d
just secured a rare Steinberger
prototype at a very low price.
But as the days passed with no
reply and no tracking number
from the seller, I began
to worry. On the third day, I
emailed him again to see what
was going on. A few hours
later, he replied and said he’d
been combing the internet and
discovered a photograph that
convinced him it was, in fact,
a very rare Steinberger. He
told me he wasn’t willing to
honor his original agreement
and would refund my money.
I was, of course, quite upset—
I’d lost the yeti of bassdom.
The missing link had slipped
through my hands, never to
be seen again. When I asked
the seller what he planned to
do, he said he planned to post
it on eBay for an outrageously
astronomical sum.
Some of the most obvious
design differences between
this first Steinberger bass
prototype and production
models are the rough texture
of the composite body
and the blade humbuckers.
I called my friend Jeff Babicz
to discuss the situation, and
we agreed I should still try to
secure the bass. Luckily, the
seller had spent some time on
my website, so I approached
him with an offer. In a nutshell,
I said, “As you can see,
I’m a collector—one of the
few people who spends serious
money on these instruments.”
I made him a very generous
offer, and after some negotiating,
we finally agreed on a
price. Considering what had
happened previously, I didn’t
feel confident the sale had truly
been finalized until I received
the tracking number the following
day.
The day the package
arrived, I brought the sealed
carton to Jeff ’s design studio
for the unveiling. Jeff slowly
unwrapped the layers of bubble
wrap to reveal an incredible
sight. Because he’d worked at
the original Steinberger factory
for 10 years, Jeff recognized
Ned’s work and design style
immediately. After looking it
over, he had no doubt the new
specimen was a Steinberger.
So many of the features were
similar in concept to later L2
basses that there was no way
it could be anything else. The
most obvious giveaway was the
carbon-graphite neck-throughbody
design. But the bass also
had the same phenolic fretboard
that was used on later
Steinberger instruments, and
the iconic swiveling pivot-plate
was also there, as well as the
fiberglass faceplate.