Hello intrepid modders! As a result of countless requests, this month I'll launch a new series that explores the art of DIY relic'ing. We'll cover the whole story, including how to age wood, finish, metal, and plastic, and we'll also discuss what gives vintage instruments their special look and feel, and how to mimic these attributes. Put away the blowtorch and ball-peen hammer—there's a lot more to this than you might think.
To illustrate these techniques, I'll take a brand-new guitar and age it from headstock to endpin, while documenting each step of the process. I'll introduce our case-study 6-string—an affordable Junior-style double cut—in the next installment of this series. And while we're aging it, I'll offer tips for upgrading parts. As a bonus, I'll occasionally include advice, insights, and trade secrets from relic'ing pros I've recruited specifically for this project.
Okay, for starters, let's get some perspective on the whole relic phenomenon—one of the hottest topics ever in the guitar-modding community. It's almost a new religion: The number of players using "aged" guitars continues to increase, and players starting their own relic'ing jobs on the kitchen table is also on the rise. You can find a slew of videos online addressing this, along with wild stories about how to use coffee, tea, shoe polish, and other mysterious stuff to make a guitar look old. And, of course, the web is full of DIY relic photos.
What's so appealing about aging a guitar? Over the years, my customers have shared many different reasons for wanting me to relic their instruments. Some wish to own and play a faithful replica of a famous vintage guitar (think SRV's No. 1, Clapton's Blackie, or Rory Gallagher's '61 Strat). Some time ago, while picking up his new Strat in my shop that we'd relic'd to his wishes, a customer explained it this way: "I really like the look and feel of a vintage guitar that has been played for decades and every single ding tells a story. But I can't afford one, and now that I'm in my mid '50s, there simply isn't enough time left to play a new guitar for another 50 years and give it a history. So I'll go this route now."
The goal of a relic job has always been to make the object appear more vintage by mimicking age. The vintage craze isn't limited to guitars: Watches, cars, clothes, furniture, jewelry, hi-fi equipment, wine ... the list is endless and whole industries have sprung up around it. As guitarists, we have many reasons to consider doing a relic job on an instrument. Perhaps you want to individualize your guitar—make it a one-of-a-kind piece with you as the designer. Or maybe you yearn for an era when music was still handmade and not computer-generated or auto-tuned.
The goal of a relic job has always been to make the object appear more vintage by mimicking age.
Naturally, there are different degrees of aging, ranging from "barely noticeable" to "totally messed up" and everything between. I really like the definitions that the Fender Custom Shop uses for its Original-Era Finishes and Time Machine series—their builders have put a lot of thought into this. Here are Fender's terms (you'll find detailed descriptions of each one on the Fender Custom Shop website):
- N.O.S. (New Old Stock) - As if you bought it new in 1954.
- Closet Classic - Kept in a case most of its life—perhaps even forgotten.
- DLX Closet Classic - Owned with pride.
- Journeyman Relic® - Used but not abused.
- Relic® - There and back—and still here today.
- Heavy Relic® - Hard-fought wear and tear.
As we explore the aging techniques, I'll refer to these terms, focusing on what Fender calls Journeyman Relic and Relic—their most popular grades. Beyond Fender's Heavy Relic grade comes the "Gone Too Far" category, and, sadly, you'll see this a lot. Over the years I have encountered a lot of ugly relic jobs, consisting of completely destroyed finishes, rusty hardware that ceases working because of its condition, and unnatural wear in spots you'd never see on heavily played instruments.
Most people who overdo it somehow become possessed, once they start to relic a guitar. Or as PG's John Bohlinger said in his November 2013 Last Call column on relic'd guitars: "Those who relic also give themselves away because they go too far. They're not satisfied with a normal 50 years' worth of wear. They want their guitars to look like Keith Richards himself personally played 50 years' worth of gigs on it."
Photo 2
Photo by Andy Ellis
Over the years, customers have sent me many images of such projects, and I archive them so I know what not to do. Photo 1 shows a sampling of the Gone Too Far relic category. In contrast, look at Photo 2, which is a well-loved 1942 Gibson ES-150. This guitar is 78 years old—a veritable grandpa of electric 6-strings. It shows finish checking and the kind of hardware tarnishing, scrapes, and scratches that come from being played for almost eight decades, but somehow they ring true. (A side note: This guitar's owner explains that the big gouge across the bass f-hole occurred when someone was apprehended stealing the guitar out of its case from the backseat of the owner's car. The case latch tore into the wood as the would-be-thief bolted, leaving the instrument. That still qualifies as genuine aging, wouldn't you agree?)
Many guitarists have never seen, touched, or played a real vintage guitar, so they have no sense for honest wear-and-tear that comes with the territory, and this can't be substituted with pics from the internet—especially in terms of an instrument's feel. This includes rounded fretboard edges and fretboard wear—a subject we'll return to during this DIY relic series.
If you decide you want to relic your own instruments, here's some advice:
Do your research: Get as many vintage guitars as possible in your hands and pay close attention to them. Go to vintage guitar stores and trade shows—nobody will be annoyed if you tell them you want to admire the instruments. Check local ads to see if someone near you is selling a vintage guitar. Often the seller will invite you to examine it. Politely ask if you can take some photos, measurements, and notes. Over time, you'll get a better sense of what it's all about and start detecting similarities in vintage instrument wear.
Dress rehearsal: Get an inexpensive new guitar and train your skills on it before you start to work on your cherished instruments. This is a good investment. If something fails ... who cares?
Go easy: Over the years, I've developed three golden rules. In honor of my personal hero, Star Trek's Captain Jean-Luc Picard, let's call this the Relic Prime Directive:
- Break the shine.
- No rust.
- Don't overdo it.
If you remember these three simple rules when doing any relic job, you'll be rewarded with a successful, aesthetically pleasing result.
That's it for now. Next month, we'll perform our next guitar mod, and then return to our DIY relic series, so stay tuned. Until then ... keep on modding!
[Updated 9/15/21]
- Last Call: Someday You'll Regret That Relic Job - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY: Relic'ing Metal Hardware - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY Relic’ing: Break the Shine - Premier Guitar ›
- Reader Guitar of the Month: Zoller Partscaster - Premier Guitar ›
- Reader Guitar of the Month: T-Style Chickadee - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY Relic’ing: Hardware Continued - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY Guitar Relic'ing: Let's Crack Some Lacquer Finish - Premier Guitar ›
- Reader Guitar of the Month—Pickups and Finishes - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY 101: How to Build a Delay Pedal Kit - Premier Guitar ›
Andy Powers has been working with electric guitars his whole life, and he’s been slowly collecting all the ideas that could go into his own “solo project,” waiting for the right time to strike.
As CEO, president, and chief guitar designer of Taylor Guitars, Andy Powers has an unimaginable amount of experience sifting through his ideas and, with a large production mechanism at hand, efficiently and effectively realizing them. He knows that there are great ideas that need more time, and rethinking electric guitar design—from the neck to the pickups to how its hollow body is constructed—doesn’t come quickly. His A-Type—which has appeared in Premier Guitarin the hands of guitarists Andy Summers and Duane Denison of the Jesus Lizard—is the innovative flagship model of his new brand, Powers Electric. And it’s the culmination of a lifetime of thought, experience, and influences.
“Southern California is a birthplace of a lot of different things. I think of it as the epicenter of electric guitar.”
“I’ve got a lot of musician friends who write songs and have notebooks of ideas,” explains Powers. “They go, ‘I’ve got these three great verses and a bridge, but no chorus. I’ll just put it on the shelf; I’ll come back to it.’ Or ‘I’ve got this cool hook,’ or ‘I’ve got this cool set of chord changes,’ or whatever it might be—they’re half-finished ideas. And once in a while, you take them off the shelf, blow the dust off, and go, ‘That’s a really nice chorus. Maybe I should write a couple of verses for it someday. But not today.’ And they put it back.”
That’s how his electric guitar design spent decades collecting in Powers’ head. There were influences that he wanted to play with that fell far afield from his acoustic work at Taylor, and he saw room to look at some technical aspects of the instrument a little differently, with his own flair.
The Powers Electric A-Type draws from Powers’ lifelong influences of cars, surfing, and skateboarding.
Over the course of Powers’ “long personal history” with the instrument, he’s built, played, restored, and repaired electric guitars. And, having grown up in Southern California, surrounded by custom-car culture, skateboarding, and surfing—all things he loves—he sees the instrument as part of his design DNA.
“Southern California is a birthplace of a lot of different things,” Powers explains. “I think of it as the epicenter of electric guitar. Post-World War II, you had Leo Fender and Paul Bigsby and Les Paul—all these guys living within just a couple of miles of each other. And I grew up in those same sorts of surroundings.”
Those influences and the ideas about what to do with them kept collecting without a plan to take action. “At some point,” he says, “you need the catalyst to go, ‘Hey, you know what? I actually have the entire guitar’s worth of ideas sitting right in front of me, and they all go together. I would want to play that guitar if it existed. Now is a good time to build that guitar.’”
“I started thinking, ‘If I had been alive then, what would I have made?’ It’s kind of an open-ended question, because at that point, well, there’s no parts catalogs to buy stuff from. A lot of these things hadn’t been invented yet. How would you interpret this?”
The pandemic ultimately served as the catalyst Powers’ electric guitars needed, and that local history proved to be a jumping-off point necessary for focusing his long-marinating ideas. “I started thinking, ‘If I had been alive then, what would I have made?’ It’s kind of an open-ended question, because at that point, well, there’s no parts catalogs to buy stuff from. A lot of these things hadn’t been invented yet. How would you interpret this? As a designer, I think that’s really interesting. Overlay that with understanding what happens to electric guitars and how people want to use them, as well as some acoustic engineering. Well, that’s pretty fascinating. That’s an interesting mix.”
Tucked away in his home workshop, Powers set about designing a guitar, building “literally every little bit other than a couple screws” including handmade and hand-polished knobs. Soon, the prototype for the Powers Electric A-Type was born. “I played this guitar and went, ‘I’ve been waiting a long time to play this guitar.’ A friend played it and went, ‘I want one, too.’ Okay, I’ll make another one. Made two more. Made three more….”
The A-Type—seen here with both vibrato and hardtail—is a fully hollow guitar that is built in what Powers calls a “hot-rod shop” on the Taylor Guitars campus.
From there, Powers recalls that he started bringing his ideas back to his shop on Taylor’s campus, where he set up “essentially a small hot-rod shop” to build these new guitars. “It’s a real small-scale operation,” he explains. “It exists here at Taylor Guitars, but in its own lane.”
The A-Type—currently the only planned Powers Electric model—has the retro appeal of classic SoCal electrics. Its single-cut body style is unique but points to the curvature of midcentury car designs, and the wide range of vibrant color options help drive that home. Conceptually, the idea of reinventing each piece of the guitar’s hardware points toward the instrument’s creators. That might get a vintage guitar enthusiast’s motor running, but it’s in the slick precision of those parts—from the bridge and saddle to the pickup components—where the A-Type’s modernism shines.
“It’s a real small-scale operation. It exists here at Taylor Guitars, but in its own lane.”
Grabbing hold of the guitar, it’s clearly an instrument living on the contemporary cutting edge. The A-Type’s neck gives the clearest indication that it’s a high-performance machine; it’s remarkably easy to fret, with low action but just enough bite across the board. Powers put a lot of thought into the fretboard dynamics that make that so, and he decided to create a hybrid radius. “You have about a 9 1/2" radius, which is really what your hand feels, but then under the plain strings, it’s a bit flatter at 14, 15-ish—it’s so subtle, it’s really tough to measure.” Without reading the specs and talking to Powers, I don’t know that I would detect the difference—and I certainly didn’t upon first try. It just felt easy to play precisely without losing character or veering into “shredder guitar” territory.
The A-Type looks like a solidbody, but you’ll know it’s hollow by its light, balanced weight. That makes it comfortable to hold, whether standing or sitting. But its hollow-ness is no inhibitor to style: I’ve yet to provoke any unintended feedback from any of my amps. Powers explains that’s part of the design, which uses V-class bracing, similar to what you’ll find on a modern Taylor acoustic.
Powers says the A-Type that is now being produced is no different than the prototype he built in his home workshop: “I have the blueprint, still, that I hand drew. I can hold the guitar that we’re making up against that drawing, and it would be like I traced over it.”
“Coupling the back and the top of the guitar matter a lot,” he asserts. “When you do that, you can make them move in parallel so that they are not prone to feeding back on stage. You don’t actually have that same Helmholtz resonance going on that makes a hollowbody guitar feedback. It’s still moving.”
On a traditional hollowbody, he points out, the top and back move independently, compressing the air inside the body. “It’ll make one start to run away by re-amplifying its own sound,” he explains. “But if I can make them touch each other, then they move together as a unit. When they do that, you’re not compressing the air inside the body. But it’s still moving. So, you get this dynamic resonance that you want out of a hollowbody guitar; it’s just not prone to feedback.”
What I hear from the A-Type is a rich, dynamic tone, full of resonance, sustain, and volume. I found it to be surprisingly loud and vibrant when unplugged. Powers tells me that’s in part due to the “stressed spherical top” and explains, “I take this piece of wood and I stress it into a sphere, which unnaturally raises its resonant frequency well above what the piece of wood normally could. It’s kind of sprung, ready to set in motion as soon as you strike the string. So, it becomes a mechanical amplifier.” The bridge then sits in two soundposts, which Powers says makes it “almost like a cello.”
“Literally every little bit other than a couple screws” on the A-Type is custom made.
The single-coil pickups take it from there. They’re available in two variations, Full Faraday and Partial Faraday, the latter of which were in my demo model, and Powers tells me they are the brighter option. Their design, he says, has been in progress for about seven or eight years. The concept behind the pickups is to use the “paramagnetic quality of aluminum”—found in the pickup housing—“to shape the magnetic field … which functions almost like a Faraday cage.” And he complements them with a simple circuit on the way out.
I found them to run quietly, as promised, and offer a transparent tone with plenty of headroom. They paired excellently with the ultra-responsive playability and feel of the guitar, so I could play as dynamically as I desired. If a standard solidbody with single-coils offers the performance of a practical sedan, this combo gave the A-Type the feel of a well-tuned racecar. At low volumes and with no pedals, it felt like I was simply amplifying the guitar’s acoustic sound, and I had full control with nothing but my pick. (Powers explains that the pickups have a wide resonance peak, which plays out to my ear.) Add pedals to the mix, including distortion and fuzz, and that translates to an articulated, hi-fi sound.
Now up to serial number XXX, the Powers Electric team has refined their production process. I wonder about that first guitar, the dream guitar Powers built in his house. How similar is the guitar I’m holding to his original vision? “It’s very, very, very close,” Powers tells me. “Literally, this guitar outline is a tracing. It’s an exact duplicate of what I first drew on paper with a pencil. I have the blueprint, still, that I hand drew. I can hold the guitar that we’re making up against that drawing, and it would be like I traced over it.”
“It’s one of those things you do because you just really want to do it. It puts some spark in your life.”
Playing the guitar and, later, talking through its features, I’m left with few questions. But one that remains has to do with branding and marketing, not the instrument: Why go to all the effort to create a new brand for the A-Type, which is to say, why isn’t this a Taylor? For Powers, it’s about design. “As guitar players,” he explains, “we know what Taylor guitars are, we know what it stands for, and we know what we do. The design language of a Taylor guitar is a very specific thing. When I look at a Taylor acoustic guitar, I go, ‘I need curves like this, I need colors like this, I need shapes like this.’”
Those aren’t the same curves, colors, and shapes as the Powers Electric design, nor do they mine the same influences. “There’s a look and a feel to what a Taylor is. And that is different from this. I look at this and go, ‘It’s not the same.’”
Of course, adding the A-Type to the well-established Taylor catalog would probably be easier in lots of ways, but Powers’ positioning of the brand is a sign of his dedication to the project. It feels like a labor of love. “They’re guitars that I really wanted to make,” he tells me enthusiastically. “And I’m excited that they get to exist. It’s one of those things you do because you just really want to do it. It puts some spark in your life.”
“It’s like a solo project,” he continues. “As musicians, you front this band, you do this thing, and you also like these other kinds of music and you’ve got other musician friends, and you want to do something that’s a different flavor. You try to make some space to do that, too.”
Oklahoma City sludge rockers Chat Pile have had a busy few years. Their 2022 LP, God’s Country, broke them internationally, and their critically acclaimed 2024 follow-up, Cool World, solidified them as one of the most exciting heavy bands of the moment. We spoke with bassist Stin and guitarist Luther Manhole about the record for our November 2024 issue.
Now, we bring you the band’s first official Rig Rundown, filmed ahead of their show at The End in Nashville last fall. Tune in to see how Stin and Luther conjure the band’s brutal soundstorms on the road.
Brought to you by D’Addario.
Bari Blast
Manhole’s main machine is this baritone 6-string, an Ernie Ball Music Man BFR Axis Super Sport, finished in “starry night.” Luther took a tip from tourmate and Agriculture guitarist Richard Chowenhill and slapped some tape over his neck pickup near the first string to prevent it from catching on the edge of the humbucker. It’s tuned to drop A, with Ernie Ball Mammoth Slinky strings.
Quite the Quilter
Back at home, Luther and Stin lean on big vintage amps, but on the road, Luther brings out this Quilter Tone Block 202, which is plugged into an Ampeg VT-40 combo amp that’s been gutted to run just as a 4x10 cabinet. Luther digs the icier, cutting tone from the 10″ speakers.
Luther Manhole's Board
Manhole’s board is minimalist: All he needs is a TC Electronic PolyTune, a Suhr Riot for dirt, an Electro-Harmonix Memory Boy (which is set for a wobbly chorus effect), and a TC Electronic Hall of Fame for reverb—pedals he’s used for over a decade. An Acoustic PBIS08 supplies the quartet with power.
Peavey Power
Around 2007, Stin went on a hunt around Oklahoma music shops for a Peavey T-40. He finally found one—in a total “Wayne’s World moment”—that belonged to a country singer who had passed away. Since the band’s formation, this “hot and clangy” white T-40 has been Stin’s tool for crafting Chat Pile’s elephantine, bottom-heavy sound. He uses the 5-string Ernie Ball Slinky Cobalts (.060–.125), omitting the .040 string, and plucks with orange Ernie Ball Everlast .73 mm picks for strong, percussive attack.
Building Blocks
Stin’s signal runs to this Quilter Bass Block 802, which blasts through a Trace Elliot 4x10 redline cab with horns—the cab that’s been used on every Chat Pile recording to date.
Stin's Board
Stin probably thinks Manhole’s board is excessive. He packs just his Boss TU-3 and a Tronographic Rusty Box, each with their own individual power supply plugged into a power bar that’s fixed to the board.
