Fab tone machines: Rickenbacker 12-string, Hofner violin bass, and, of course, a Vox amp.
Picture this: I’m at the gym and lying on
my back while going through some exercises
with a trainer. My eyes are closed, I’m
concentrating, and I’m attempting to block
out the cacophony around me. Clanging
machines and the high-pitched voices of
young women chatting about bridesmaid
dresses and cosmetics weave in and out of
“Good Time” by Owl City and Carly Rae
Jepsen playing on the gym’s stereo system. As
quickly as it comes, it’s gone, segueing into
“Hey Ya!” from Outkast. As much as I like
the song, I find it hard to determine where
the tune ends and the room noise begins.
Astonishingly, next up is “Fire” by
Jimi Hendrix, a markedly different sort of
soundscape and delivery. Of course, Jimi
knew how to shake it like a Polaroid in his
own way, but the contrast made me wonder
when music started to sound like the
producer set up a microphone on a playground
and merely hit the record button.
The answer is, most likely, a long time ago.
A quick scan of pop hits from decades past
yields endless examples of jump-rope singalongs
put to a beat.
There have always been commercial
products vying for consumer dollars via the
lowest common denominator, and musical
instruments are no exception. As television
began to beam images of guitar-playing
heroes like Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, and
Merle Travis, the 6-string’s stock began to
rise. This exposure helped manufacturers
advertise their association with leading artists
beyond the music store crowd in a big way.
But the real tipping point must have
been in February of 1964 when the Beatles
appeared before 73 million viewers on The
Ed Sullivan Show. The group’s less than
threatening, la-di-da rendition of “All My
Loving” was one of the first in a long line
of hummable pop songs to follow from
England, as if Chuck Berry and Buck
Owens had echoed off their shores. The
difference was the atomic-bomb magnitude
of the reaction to a guitar-powered group. If
the Beach Boys, Ventures, or Hank Marvin’s
Shadows hadn’t convinced young folks to
plug in a guitar, this moment in time was a
twangy tsunami of motivation for would-be
rockers. The accordion and saxophone just
didn’t stand a chance. The guitar became the
teenage weapon of choice almost overnight,
and instrument manufacturers geared up for
a ride that continues to this day.
In some way, this was also the moment
the vintage guitar market was quietly
launched. At the time, the guitar and amplifier
industry was a cottage industry at best.
Musical gear was primarily made in small
quantities by hand, and closely linked to the
individuals who designed and created them.
Even the biggest of the big were not much
more than family businesses. John Hall, the
present-day, second-generation owner of
Rickenbacker, fondly recalls the story of his
father personally delivering a new 12-string
electric to George Harrison when the Beatle
was staying at The Park hotel in New York.
The first round of shots had been fired
in the ensuing guitar wars, and the resulting
manufacturing ramp-up was spectacular.
It would leave almost no guitar-oriented
enterprise untouched. Vox amplifiers were
in such demand that their U.S. agent,
Thomas Organ, was compelled to build
product stateside under license in order to
meet demand. Gibson built a vast, modern
facility behind their original, brick structure
on Parsons Street. And Fender, the quintessential
family business, expanded to the
point where they attracted no less than CBS
as a buyer in 1965. Although the corporate
payout was a staggering 13 million bucks,
it was just a fraction of what lay ahead. It
also marked a watershed for the industry as
a whole. Who hasn’t heard the phrase “pre-
CBS” when describing a choice, vintage
Fender? Although we can point to a generally
raised level of quality today, especially
at the entry level, it was this very expansion
and the ensuing corner-cutting that underwrote
our vintage and boutique sensibilities.
In a continuation of market expansion, the
idea of throwaway guitars is upon us. Just like
the disposable pop music that saturates our
culture (and then disappears only to quickly
be replaced by another wave) the instrument
market is fashion driven. By that, I mean
not only the allure of airbrushed graphics or
fancy tonewoods, but also the very way these
guitars are presented to us. Do we really need
another hyperbolic phrase to describe what
is essentially a Stratocaster? Tom Petty sings
about this in his song “Joe” from The Last DJ
album—it’s almost as if you could substitute
the word “gear” for “music.”
The idea of cheap, mass-produced/marketed
instruments has been as good for musicians
starting out as the concept of handmade,
heirloom instruments has been for the
truly inspired buyer. You can’t have one without
the other. But, not all is lost. This is just
one man’s musing about the state of popular
culture. And as I finish my workout routine,
the rush of endorphins and the loping beat of
Katy Perry’s “Wide Awake” give me a hopeful
feeling as I stride out the door. There’s room
in this world for all types of experience and
everything doesn’t need to be so serious.
I feel like building a Tele.
Jol Dantzig is a
noted designer, builder,
and player who co-founded
Hamer Guitars,
one of the first boutique
guitar brands, in 1973.
Today, as the director of
Dantzig Guitar Design, he continues to
help define the art of custom guitar. To
learn more, visit
guitardesigner.com.