Guitars without headstocks—and opinions about them—have shifted since their ubiquitous ’80s heyday, and now it seems like they’re here to stay. How did these guitars lose their heads—and why do some players absolutely love them?
Stringed instruments without headstocks, from lutes to nylon-string guitars, have existed for ages. It’s even rumored that Les Paul built a headless guitar of his own. But chances are, when you think of electric guitars sans headstocks, you either picture someone from the 1980s in tight pants and big hair playing an original Steinberger, or you envision a tattooed YouTube shredder with a Strandberg in hand. The two brands share many similarities and dominate one of the most controversial electric guitar designs since Leo Fender slapped a pickup into a plank of solid wood.
Until now, headless guitars were a respected but—other than for a brief period in the ’80s—niche product played by only the most adventurous. Recently, though, they’ve enjoyed a meteoric rise in popularity and are giving the legacy guitar models a run for their money. How did such outlandish-looking instruments become so popular? What would possess a guitar designer to “head” down such a radical path? Is this a fad, or is there something to these futuristic-looking instruments? To answer these questions, we’ll have to go back to 1976.
Ned Steinberger
Back in the mid 1970s, then-guitar-builder Stuart Spector wanted to create a new kind of electric bass. He made a serendipitous move and turned to a fellow member of his woodworking co-op to help: Ned Steinberger. Inspired by Ned’s ergonomic furniture designs, he wanted to imbue the new instrument with the same level of comfortable contouring. While furniture and basses might seem like an odd pairing, to Ned, the two are the same.
“I was involved in designing chairs, primarily,” Ned explains. “And a lot of the things I was working with were analogous to bass. I thought, ‘How does it feel? What are the ergonomics? What is the message of the piece?’ The bass guitar was essentially the sexiest chair I could have imagined [laughs].”
Ned Steinberger with his first TransTrem model in 1983. It was pure kismet that Stuart Spector asked Steinberger, then a furniture designer, for help with a bass design back in the mid ’70s. The rest, as they say, is headless history.
Putting their skills to work, Steinberger and Spector created the very first Spector NS bass, and it’s remained a staple of the industry ever since. But as great as it was, in Ned’s mind it still had a few shortcomings that he would address in his very own bass design.
“There’s this neck-dive issue I was working on,” he says. “All bass players are familiar with it, and that’s where I came into the whole thing, with the ergonomics. There wasn’t balance. And I was thinking, ‘This is not working!’” The culprits were the headstock and the added weight of the tuning machines. Ned’s solution was simple. “If you have a weight at the end of a stick and you put it at the other end of the stick, it’s going to change the balance,” he says. He would move the tuners to the body and remove the headstock altogether, giving birth to the modern, headless electric guitar—or bass, in this case.
“These weren’t weird for being weird. They were about trying to make an instrument perform at the highest level, and musicians could relate to that.” —Ned Steinberger
Ned was just getting started. Many more design elements most luthiers hold dear were on his chopping block, including the wood itself. Creating his first prototypes and production models was a gigantic undertaking. But it would soon be worth it.
The Rise of Steinberger
The 1980s were an exciting time for electric guitar and bass. New brands like Jackson, Charvel, and Kramer, along with Floyd Rose’s revolutionary bridge designs, created fertile ground for forward-thinking electric instruments. Trying to capitalize on this opportunity and wanting to avoid running his own manufacturing business, Steinberger tried to sell his new design to more prominent guitar manufacturers. But even in the ’80s, a bass shaped like a paddle was a challenging sell.
“People didn’t understand. These weren’t weird for being weird,” explains Ned. “They were about trying to make an instrument perform at the highest level, and musicians could relate to that. But when I first brought it to a lot of the shops, they all said, ‘No. We don’t want any of that shit. We can’t sell it.’ They weren’t being mean to me. They were just laying it out there.”
Paul Masvidal wields his signature Strandberg Boden Masvidalien NX 6 Cosmo live with technical death metal pioneers Cynic.
Photo by Stephanie Cabral
It was clear to Ned that if this bass design was going to succeed, he would have to build them himself. And that’s just what he did, creating his namesake brand and heading to the 1980 NAMM show. There, displayed alongside countless basses from Fender, Yamaha, and even Spector, would be his headless, paddle-shaped, carbon fiber Steinberger L2 bass.
“We had a little 10' x 10' booth,” Ned remembered. “Most people walked by and looked at us like we were crazy. But NAMM put on a huge concert that Saturday night, and the [Dixie] Dregs came out, with [bassist] Andy West. And unbeknownst to me, there he was with a Steinberger bass! That was the beginning of everything. We were nothing until an artist took it out there and said, ‘This is cool.’ Then, the day after, you had to stand in line to get into our booth.”
Everything had changed. Soon, Steinberger basses were shipping around the world. Headless electric guitars were no longer an experiment by a curious furniture designer. They were a legitimate take on electric guitar design, and it was only a short time before Steinbergers were in the hands of some very influential players.
Sweetwater Senior Category Manager for Guitars Jay Piccirillo remembers when he first encountered the brand. “To me, Steinberger was [Rush’s] Geddy Lee,” he says. “I wanted one so bad, just because he played one. That was probably the Power Windows era, and his bass tone was so cool.”
Allan Holdsworth played headless guitars since their early days, and he’s had several headless signature models dating back to the Steinberger GL2TA-AH all the way up to this modern-day Kiesel.
Steinberger guitars followed in 1982 and were adopted by everyone from Allan Holdsworth and Genesis’s Mike Rutherford to forward-thinking side-musicians like Reeves Gabrels (David Bowie, Tin Machine, and, now, the Cure) and David Rhodes (Peter Gabriel). Even Eddie Van Halen got into the act, composing “Summer Nights” around Steinberger’s revolutionary TransTrem system.
In 1987, the big guitar builders finally came calling, allowing Ned to sell Steinberger to Gibson. Unfortunately, as the 1990s drew closer, so did a seismic shift in popular culture. Though still going under Gibson’s leadership today, Steinberger would, in many ways, be a casualty of the decade.
The Decade That Changed Everything
By the time 1992 rolled around, bands like Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Sonic Youth had replaced the technology-tinged tones of the 1980s. It was as much a reaction to the previous decade’s fashion and trends as it was a trend of its own. Anything related to that era’s guitar playing, including Steinberger, was gone. Even the early Steinberger stalwarts had turned their back on their beloved L2s.
“Sting [who famously used his L2 on the Police’s Synchronicity album and on the Ghost in the Machine tour] is an interesting story,” sighs Ned. “He played a Steinberger for a few years. Now, he’s done a complete 180, and he’s playing an old Fender. Geddy Lee, too. While there are still all these people out there that really appreciate Steinberger instruments, not everybody has stayed with it.”
Piccirillo thinks he knows why. “I think the timeliness—and not the timelessness—of some of that music, that’s maybe where it started to fade. I think of a Kevin Shirley interview I read while he was producing some of the later Rush albums. He told Geddy, ‘Get away from the modern stuff. Go grab your Jazz Bass, and let’s crank up that old SVT.’”
Whether it was changing fashion or preference for tone, by the 1990s, Gibson was sitting on a game-changing brand that had made next-level instruments for some of the most popular and finest musicians, and nobody wanted them. Well, nearly nobody.
Headless Goes Underground
While the rest of the world focused on Seattle, the band Death, featuring guitarist Paul Masvidal, also a member of Cynic, had emerged as a leader in the Florida death metal community. In 1991, Death released Human, which many consider the first technical death metal and progressive death metal record, and Cynic’s Focus followed in 1993. Both albums laid the groundwork for modern artists as diverse as Plini, Animals as Leaders, and Per Nilsson. And like many of them today, Masvidal made his music on headless guitars—the Steinberger GM and GR models.
Strandberg’s Paul Masvidal signature, the Boden Masvidalien NX 6 Cosmo, strikes a pose.
Photo courtesy of Strandberg Guitars
“When I played on Death’s Human, Steinbergers weren’t popular,” Masvidal remembers. “But I had no issues with [there being] no headstock. To me, it was groundbreaking. Those guitars felt alien, and I felt like an alien. It was also when my playing started to go into new places. My harmonic vocabulary and soloing style expanded. I started to feel like I was onto something, and that was somehow in tandem with this instrument. With Focus, a voice was emerging, and the headless guitar was the beginning of that for me.” Photo courtesy of Strandberg Guitars
Masvidal wasn’t alone. A small but passionate network of collectors also kept the headless-guitar design alive. Two of which were Headless USA’s Donald Greenwald and Jeff Babicz (also of Babicz Guitars). Calling themselves the “home of everything headless in the music world,” their company was ground zero for buying and selling classic, U.S.-made Steinbergers, accessing hard-to-find headless hardware and strings, restorations, and anything one might need on a headless guitar journey.
“Those guitars felt alien, and I felt like an alien.” —Paul Masvidal
Greenwald unfortunately passed away in late 2022, but he left his partnership in Headless USA to his dear friend and guitar confidant, Natalie Thayer. Still teamed with Babicz (who worked in the original Steinberger factory), Thayer’s goal is to honor her friend’s legacy by playing a major role in the current popularity of headless guitars.
Ola Strandberg
Beyond Masvidal, Greenwald, and Babicz, several online guitar builders’ groups and forums were dedicated to the headless guitars, covering every topic from vintage headless gems to creating new designs. Little did they know, hiding in their ranks was a soon-to-be electric guitar icon, Ola Strandberg.
In the 2000s, Ola was a hobbyist guitar player looking for a way to unwind from his stressful life. A tinkerer since birth, he says that he soon found himself thinking of an old Steinberger copy he had torn apart years prior. “It was a Hohner with the Steinberger-licensed tremolo system,” he recalls. “The hardware really appealed to me from a technical perspective. It was next-level stuff compared to traditional hardware. So, I ended up tearing it apart and building a different guitar around the hardware.
“Then, I got back into guitars in 2007 as a mental recovery after a pretty intense period of work, and I wanted to build another guitar. The headless concept … I couldn’t see myself doing anything else. It just made sense for so many reasons.”
Direct from the “cutting edge” of headless designs, according to Sweetwater Senior Category Manager for Guitars Jay Piccirillo. Ibanez has several forward-thinking models, including this EHB1005F Fretless 5-string bass.
Ola wasn’t out to make a Steinberger clone. Like Ned, he wanted to take what existed and make it better. The difference was that Ola says he “wanted to build a guitar that had some references to what a traditional guitar would look like and that would appeal to what I would want to play.”
From custom hardware to a new body shape, nothing was off the table. Refusing to compromise, the guitar Ola arrived at—now called the Strandberg Boden—was an instant winner and caught the attention of another of the forum’s members. As Ola explains, this part-time luthier and full-time musician was at the epicenter of a new style of highly technical, heavy new music and was about to change his life forever:
“Chris Letchford of Scale the Summit came up to me and said, ‘I hang around the forum because I’m a guitar builder, but my music is taking off, and I don’t have time to build guitars. Can you build me a 7-string guitar?’ I hardly knew 7-string guitars existed, but I said yes. So, guitar number five was for Chris.”
Letchford was hitting the road on package tours that included four or five bands, sometimes sharing members and gear, Strandberg recalls. “Chris showed it to Tosin (Abasi from Animals as Leaders) and Misha (Mansoor from Periphery), and I built number eight for Tosin and number 15, I think, for Misha.
“They were producing a new type of music, and it was perfect for them to have a guitar that looked different. They were a lower weight, had quicker response, and had better resonance. They addressed a lot of the issues they were having with traditional extended-range guitars. And, obviously, with those guys out there playing to audiences largely composed of other musicians, it was the perfect viral marketing.”
“The headless concept … I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.” —Ola Strandberg
Like Steinberger in the ’80s, the orders started flooding in. Strandberg had set off a headless-guitar tidal wave that’s still going strong. What once shocked the industry is now found next to Les Pauls, Strats, and dreadnoughts. For devotees of the design, it’s been a long time coming— especially for Ned Steinberger.
“Think about this,” Steinberger says. “It was less than 30 years from when the Fender bass and Strat were introduced to when I got started. It is now 50 years later. That blows my mind when I think about it.”
Ned Steinberger’s latest design project, the Phin, built by Patrick Sankuer of Sankuer Composites Technology using carbon fiber. The self-clamping bridge tuners are 3D printed in bronze-infused steel, and the custom EMG pickup incorporates 3 humbuckers inside a single housing.
Is the Future Headless?
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, the decades of hard work have paid off. Countless guitar brands like Ibanez, Traveler Guitars, and Kiesel have now put their take on the headless thing. These companies are pushing their own boundaries in design, and the headless community is happy to have them. But is there enough demand to keep all of these builders afloat? Piccirillo says yes: “Ibanez, as far as the bigger manufacturers go, they’re the cutting edge. They spend a lot of time with artists and developing the next iteration to make things better and better. And Strandberg already broke through. They perform consistently, they have wide distribution with lots of great retail partners, and they have enough artists that legitimize the design in the eyes of others. Demand is still huge, and it’s not slowing down. There’s plenty of room for brands to join in.”
“It was less than 30 years from when the Fender bass and Strat were introduced to when I got started. It is now 50 years later. That blows my mind when I think about it.” —Ned Steinberger
“I don't think there’s any going back now,” says Masvidal. “The post-Cynic artists that are creating these sounds need them, and there are so many. It’s post-trend now. It’s still there, and it’s still holding up. There are so many companies that are making interesting things and pushing the envelope. They’re not going to turn that uncool corner again. It’s just not going to happen.”
The very soul of headless electric guitar design is the unwavering charge toward progress and evolution. From the work Ned’s doing today with his company NS Design to Strandberg’s line, to Ibanez or Kiesel’s creations, the platform, by its nature, must move forward. That takes commitment from builders, players, and retailers. Luckily, it’s in good hands.
“I’ve had a lot of heart-to-hearts with Ned and Don about the future of the headless guitar business,” says Thayer. “I want to put some fresh, grassroots effort into revitalizing it. This headless resurgence is the perfect opportunity. I think it’s going to be like the Les Paul and the Strat. I see a huge future for [headless] guitars, and I think it’s only just begun.”
Two extra-affordable versions of quirky instruments from Fender’s late-1960s-to-mid-1970s period deliver unexpected—and out-of-the-ordinary—playing pleasures.
High style on the cheap. Excellent construction for this price class. Nice feel under the fingers.
Pickups can sound brash.
$349
Squier Affinity Starcaster Deluxe
fender.com
The years 1969 and 1976—which bookend the releases of the original Telecaster Thinline and Starcaster—mark a strange period for Fender. They don’t signal a lost era as pre-CBS purists might insist. But there’s no doubt Fender was firing more wildly at an increasing number of moving targets—from shifting musical sands to improving import competition.
But if the very late 1960s and early/mid 1970s didn’t yield design icons on the order of the Stratocaster or Telecaster, they were a creative time for Fullerton. Few models represent that spirit—and Fender’s fluid state—quite as well as the Telecaster Thinline and Starcaster. The first was an evolution of Fender’s first solidbody executed by Roger Rossmeisl, the visionary designer behind the Rickenbacker 330 and Fender Coronado. The second was an altogether new design that, in quintessentially ’70s Fender style, managed the unlikely (some might say unholy) marriage of Jazzmaster and Gibson ES-335.
But as the ultra-affordable Squier incarnations of the Telecaster Thinline and Starcaster reviewed here prove, the folks at Fender of the late ’60s and early ’70s are entitled to a hearty last laugh: These designs are timeless and appealing enough to be around half a century later. And even in these inexpensive versions they offer genuinely interesting, stylish, and highly playable alternatives to other instruments in their price class.
Squier Affinity Starcaster Deluxe
Though collectors would have ultimately pounced on the semi-hollow Starcaster for its rarity (they were made for only four years), Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood elevated the profile of the instrument when it was far from fashionable. More recently, blink-182’s Tom DeLonge, who now has a stripped-down signature Fender version, did much to popularize the shape. The Affinity Starcaster Deluxe is closer to DeLonge’s signature guitar, in both form and function, than Greenwood’s vintage specimen or, for that matter, Fender’s import reissue from the 2010s, or Squier’s own Classic Vibe version. Most critically, the Affinity version uses a standard humbucker with the shape and construction of a PAF rather than the Fender Wide Range, as well as a streamlined control array.
Casting Skyward
The Squier humbucker is more compressed, midrange-y, and less airy than both a Fender Wide Range pickup and the humbuckers in a contemporary Epiphone 335s—guitars which are at least $200 more than the Affinity Starcaster (not coincidentally, perhaps, in the ballpark of what a pretty nice set of PAF replacements would cost). But it’s worth spending time with the Squier humbuckers before you think about an upgrade. They are charming in their own right. By itself, the bridge pickup can be a little brash, particularly if you use a heavy touch with a pick. Lighter attack and amp tone attenuation goes a long way toward taming its more spiky tendencies, enhancing touch responsiveness, and getting glassy tones to sing a bit more. The neck pickup needs a very different treatment. I needed to bump the treble on an already bright AC15-like amp to extract the kind of tone spectrum you’d expect from a PAF, though it was quite round and chimey once I got it there. Cool sounds are here, you just may have to work for them a bit. The combined pickup setting is the sweetest sounding of the three. It also generates the sounds that communicate the most semi-hollow resonance and personality. All three settings would benefit from rangier pots. They have a pretty steep curve and limited useful range. Rolling the volume back just a few clicks, for instance, results in a fair bit of treble loss, and there’s not much variation to play with once you move through the first third of the control’s range.
Get Yer Head Straight
Curiously, Fender opted for a Stratocaster-style headstock rather than the less-ornate version of the original Starcaster headstock profile used on the standard Affinity Starcaster. While it looks sharp and balanced, it’s hard not to miss the unusual headstock shape that helped make the original Starcaster so completely different. None of this, of course, has any bearing on the Starcaster’s playability, which is really nice. The jumbo frets make active, expressive finger vibrato moves feel natural, which is nice given how the pickups and semi-hollow tones encourage you to linger on notes and use bluesy bends and phrasings.
The Verdict
One of the Indonesia-built Affinity Starcaster Deluxe’s nicest surprises is the overall quality of the construction. The neck joint is tight, the fretwork is free of sharp ends, and the finish is pretty. The pickups could be a little airier, and the smaller PAF routs probably preclude installation of Wide Range pickups, which begs a question: Would you rather pay 80 bucks more for a Squier Classic Vibe Starcaster, which offers Wide Range-sized pickups, independent volume and tone for each pickup, and a more vintage-correct headstock? I’d probably be inclined to lean that way. But considering that most affordable semi-hollows from Epiphone and Gretsch are at least $100 to $200 more, the Affinity Starcaster Deluxe is a value star with ample style that sets it apart.
Squier Affinity Telecaster Thinline
If you don’t have much bread but crave a Telecaster, the Squier website is like cruising a little paradise. As of this writing, there’s 25 ways to satisfy your jones—all for less than $500 and as inexpensive as $199. But few combinations of good looks and price stand out quite like the Affinity Telecaster Thinline. The elegance of Leo Fender and George Fullerton’s original body profile and Roger Rossmeisl’s modifications (in particular, the cresting wave pickguard) add up to a balanced whole rather than a mess whipped up by too many cooks in the kitchen.
But the Thinline is more than a style exercise. It’s a true semi-hollow with center-block construction like an ES-335 or, for that matter, the Starcaster. As a result, the Affinity Thinline is crazy light, weighing less than seven pounds. There is some downside to this lack of body heft. The guitar is prone to neck dive unless you’re wearing an especially grippy strap. But because it’s so comfortable in every other respect, you tend not to notice once you have the neck in hand.
Quest for Twang
The neck itself is maple with an additional maple fretboard cap, but the satin finish certainly takes satin to the extreme end of its definition. Though smooth and comfortable, it feels just a touch too close to unfinished for my tastes—a condition that will no doubt be remedied by many more playing hours. There are no complaints about how the guitar feels as a player, though. The action is fast and low, there’s no fret buzz, and the intonation is dead on, making this the first guitar in this price class I’ve encountered in a long time that didn’t need a significant bit of additional setup work. Even more impressively, the Thinline is tuning stable. Poor quality tuners and poorly cut nuts are often obstacles to tuning stability on inexpensive instruments. That’s not the case here, and the Thinline held up to heavy-handed, Who-’65 strumming without flinching.
The pickups deliver quintessentially Telecaster sounds, but with a twist. Whether it’s the semi-hollow construction, the ceramic pickups (Telecaster pickups are generally alnico), or a combination of factors, the Thinline has discernibly softer attack and transients than a good upmarket version, which results in a squishier low-midrange. This means a little less honk in your honky-tonk, but it makes the Thinline a lovely jangle machine—particularly in the bridge position. And if the neck pickup seems to broadcast particularly soft transients, with a bump in top end and mids from your amp, it’s a lovely vehicle for soul ballads and mellow vocal accompaniment.
The Verdict
To a dyed-in-the-wool Tele head, the Affinity Telecaster Thinline might come across as a little spongy. But it’s a fantastic guitar for rhythm work and throwing a cheap, secondhand Boss SD-1 overdrive in the mix made the Thinline snarl and rip. At $299 before tax, it’s hard to imagine a cooler inexpensive path to twangin’ and more.
Squier Affinity Series Starcaster Deluxe Semi-hollowbody Electric Guitar - Sienna Sunburst
Affinity Strat, Sienna SunburstSquier Affinity Series Telecaster Thinline Electric Guitar - 3-color Sunburst with Maple Fingerboard
Affinity Tele, 3-Color SunburstDunlop Pays Tribute to Eric Clapton with Special Edition Cry Baby Wah
Eric Clapton Cry Baby Wah is a limited-edition pedal with GCB95 sound and gold-plated casting. Portion of proceeds donated to Crossroads Centre for addiction treatment. Available exclusively at Guitar Center.
In 1986, Mr. Clapton first started working with the late Jim Dunlop Sr., and he became one of our first and most important Cry Baby artists. We are honored that our company’s relationship with the legendary guitar player continues to this day. With this special limited edition Eric Clapton Cry Baby Wah, we’re paying tribute to Mr. Clapton’s 60-year legacy. Featuring the benchmark sound of the GCB95 Cry Baby Standard Wah, this pedal comes with a distinguished gold-plated casting befitting one of rock ’n’ roll’s living giants.
A portion of the proceeds from the sale of each Eric Clapton Cry Baby Wah will be donated to the Crossroads Centre, a not-for-profit organization founded by Mr. Clapton to provide safe and supportive addiction treatment and a road to recovery. If you wish to contribute a further donation, please visit crossroadsantigua.org.
The Eric Clapton Cry Baby Wah is available now at $299.99, exclusively from Guitar Center in the United States and from select retailers worldwide.
Eric Clapton Cry Baby Wah Highlights
- Pay tribute to one of rock 'n' roll's greatest legends
- Special limited edition• Benchmark sound of the GCB95
- Distinguished gold-plated casting
- Portion of proceeds donated to Crossroads Centre for supportive addiction treatment and recovery
PG's Nikos Arvanitis talks to the funk-guitar master about his musical influences, go-to gear choices, the pros of teaching, working in the studio versus the stage, and future plans for Jamiroquai.
As a youngster in the 1970s, Rob Harris was unusually fixated with music, spending hours watching bands on TV programmes. At the age of 7 and after much badgering from Rob, his father finally retrieved the guitar (an old Hofner) out of the loft space for him, and so began Rob’s lifelong musical journey.
After growing up in the Middle East from age 4 to 12, Rob and his family returned in to the UK in 1983 and he soon began studying with a great local guitar teacher named Colin Medlock. This was to continue for several years and was to shape a strong musical foundation in Rob’s guitar playing.
At the age of 14, Rob began gigging with local bands in the Cambridgeshire area and soon developed an interest in a variety of musical styles, listening to an eclectic range of artists and tirelessly researching and studying those who had played guitar on said records. This furthered the ongoing development of his musical skills, studying song craft, creating parts and hooks and writing lyrics. It was only natural to then take the step to working with producers and artists as a session guitarist.
The early 90’s was when Rob really began to flourish, recording and touring with The Pasadenas, Gary Numan, Mark Owen, Alphaville eventually joining the band Jamiroquai as a member in 1999 which continues to this day. Rob has played and co- written on the albums Funk Odyssey, Dynamite, Rock Dust Light Star and has most recently played on the band’s 2017 release Automaton and embarking on a global tour with the band in the April of the same year.
His credits also include: Beverly Knight, Kylie Minogue, Anastasia, Lighthouse Family, Don Airey (Deep Purple), Katy Perry, JP Cooper, Era, Gabriella Aplin, Will Young, Julian Perretta, Duke Dumont, Paloma Faith, Robbie Williams, Lego Batman (Soundtrack), Louisa Johnson and The Ministry of Sound’s Stripped Album, Kanye West, to name but a few.
Rob currently lives in Cambridgeshire where he records and teaches in between tour dates at his well-equipped studio. He also spends much of his time giving masterclasses and hosting educational workshops to music students and guitar enthusiasts, across the globe.
If you want to escape from the pressures of modern life, go pick up your guitar. Now. You’ll be glad you did.
As I write this, we’re a few weeks away from the election, and I’m feeling as nervous as a cat in a dog park. No matter how you’re voting, there’s a good chance you feel the same way. These are complex times.
But we have a source of respite that many do not: We play guitar. Lately, I’ve made it a point to carve out an hour or so nightly to play through some of my band’s current repertoire to keep the dust off between shows and to explore some fresh sonic options to work into songs. The practice is paying off musically, but that’s not the biggest benefit. I’ve noticed, after I shut down my amps and pedalboard, and put my guitars back on their stands, that I feel better. About everything. For that hour or so, I am simply lost in the joys and mysteries of playing guitar. Things start to reveal themselves, new ideas tumble out of my fingers, and suddenly I’m in a place where anxiety can’t get to me and my mind is largely clear. It’s a safe zone where I’m not judging myself or others, and I’m relaxed and present. It’s a place where polling numbers and attack ads, family members with difficulties, and other concerns don’t even exist. And while it may be temporary, it is also beautiful.
I’m certain many of us have the same experience when we’re playing at home or onstage. And if you’re reading this while voices in your head are nattering with worry, I suggest you immediately go plug a guitar—the one that plays like melted butter—into your favorite amp and play a little melody, or your favorite set of chord changes, or even a nice campfire chord. I’d be surprised if you don’t soon feel the sensation of tension trickling out of your spine.
This is the great gift of guitar playing and music in general: Its ability to transport us to another place—that zone of safety and delight. Under the weight of the world, it is often possible to temporarily forget guitar playing’s curative power, or be distracted from it, and that is why I am reminding you.
"This is the great gift of guitar playing and music in general: Its ability to transport us to another place—that zone of safety and delight."
For me, and I’m sure this is not just my experience, music has always been a refuge—a special thing that makes my heart fill with peace, joy, and wonder. I recall watching Johnny Cash on TV as a child, listening to his spoken stories and the tales in his songs, and feeling like I was being swept through time and space, to places and eras full of exciting people and things. It stretched my imagination and worldview, and made it seem that life’s possibilities were endless. I still cherish that feeling, and listening to, for a couple examples, Tom Waits, Pink Floyd, Merle Haggard, Lucinda Williams, Son House, Kevin Gordon, Coltrane, and the Messthetics, still delivers it. And the next step, playing music and writing songs, makes me feel like an occupant of a small corner of their universe, and that’s a place I cherish.
I’ll mention safety again, and pardon me if this gets too personal. Many of us, after surviving the pandemic and the last decade of turmoil, do not feel safe. Having grown up in a household with a physically and verbally abusive father, where a blow could come at any time without reason or warning, that’s long been an issue for me. And when the news of the latest mass shooting, for example, is fresh in my brain, I tend to map out places to hide or flee when I’m at a concert or a mall or a large public gathering. Maybe that’s just my problem, but my gut—and what I hear from others—tells me it’s not.
Oddly, one of the places I can feel safest and happiest is onstage, whether performing solo or with my band, when everything is flowing and the music is in my veins. And that’s the magic of guitar and music again. It’s given me a place to be in the world that I love and that makes me feel complete. If you get that feeling from playing and listening to music, don’t let anything get in its way. Sometimes, in these times, that can be challenging, but the first step to your personal oasis is simple: just pick up that special guitar and plug in.