Tom Anderson shares how he became a custom-guitar pioneer and details the company’s new Short T guitar.
Until the ’80s, guitarists mainly played mass-produced instruments: Fender, Gibson, Gretsch, or Rickenbacker—that was pretty much it. Then small builders like Schecter and Jackson began a trend toward custom-crafted guitars tailored to needs that weren’t being met by the big boys—like the desire for locking tremolos, thinner necks, and more modern aesthetics.
A product of those heady times, Tom Anderson has risen from humble beginnings in his kitchen and garage to be one of the most respected names in the thriving custom guitar market. We recently had the pleasure of hearing this American success story—and Anderson’s new take on one of the first electric guitar designs— firsthand. Listen up.
Tom Anderson testing out a Bigsby-equipped Atom Special.
Were you a player originally?
Yeah, I started guitar when I was eight years old, convinced all through school that I was going to be a rock star and buy my parents a condo on Maui. I had a band in sixth grade, and later I made a living playing around LA for about five years after high school. Then I realized that I wasn’t going be a rock star and buy my parents a condo on Maui. I still loved guitar and did a lot of tinkering on my own guitars: taking them apart and changing pickups, etc. I would gig at night, and during the day I would do repairs at music stores around the area. In the late ’70s, when disco happened and the playing situation got bad, it became obvious that I wasn’t going to make a living playing. I was thinking about getting married, so I went to work building guitars with Dave Schecter in 1977.
When did you split from Schecter?
It was 1984. In 1982, Schecter was floundering financially and they brought in some investors who decided to make stuff overseas because it would be cheaper. They sent me to Japan to source stuff for them, but that wasn’t what I wanted to do. Until then we had made everything at Schecter: we had a metal shop and a wood shop, and we did the finishing right there. It was a fun place to learn. Dave encouraged me to leave. He said, “If you really want to do what you want, you need to start your own company.” That was the furthest thing from my mind. Still, I came home from work and told my wife that I quit my job. We had a two-year-old and a baby due in two months, but it worked out.
Did you start mostly making necks, bodies, and parts?
The first year, I ran the company from my garage, and the plan was to just make bodies and necks. I wasn’t planning on being a guitar manufacturer. What fed our family that first year was that Schecter Japan needed American-made pickups. The American Schecter factory closed a few months after I left, and nobody knew how to make pickups. Schecter Japan contacted me and we sat down at Carl’s Jr. and made a deal for me to make them 300 Strat pickups. I set up a little pickup-making shop in the kitchen of our house. After I got through making necks and bodies in our garage during the day, we sat up making pickups every night. That first year we lived on those pickups—we still make them to this day.
Anderson’s employees joke that, because Jesse Flynt selects customers’ gorgeous maple tops, he can’t show his face to the public or he’ll never be able to live a normal life again.
What prompted you to start making guitars?
It soon became clear that if I was going to do this on a serious level, I needed more space. After a year, I moved into a 1500-square-foot industrial space just across the parking lot from where we are now.
I was selling bodies and necks to John Suhr at Rudy’s Music Stop, Roger Sadowsky, and Jim Tyler—a bunch of guys that didn’t have the facilities to do it themselves. We were doing a lot of OEM small manufacturer stuff and selling to stores because people were building parts guitars.
I had a local dealer in Hollywood who said, “You know, if you assembled some guitars out of these parts, I could sell them.” So we did a few pieces here and there. At that point, there were just four of us here at the shop. I realized that it was more rewarding to make a complete guitar. A lot of times you make a body or neck and send them to a store where the guy who strings up the guitars puts it together. He doesn’t do good fretwork, so the parts you worked so hard on turn into a mediocre guitar. That was frustrating, so we started putting them together and doing all the detail work ourselves. It was a lot more fun, and we felt really good about the end product. In 1990, we stopped selling parts to people and just focused on making complete guitars.
At that point, we weren’t painting our guitars— Pat Wilkinson was doing it. About 1992, we started the painting process ourselves, and by ’93 we were fully internalized. We start with lumber, do all the woodworking and finishing, and make the pickguards and pickups. The only things we buy are metal parts like tuners and bridges—but we’ve been able to have bridges made the way we want them.
How has the custom market changed since you started?
Back in the middle ’80s, the custom market was small. The big guys owned the guitar business. There was Schecter, and Hamer was still smallish. Nowadays there are tons of small builders, whether it’s a one-man shop or a three-man shop. In part, that’s because information is so much more accessible, a guy can go on the Gear Page and show his stuff, whereas in the old days it was all expensive print ads, so it was tough for someone starting out to get nationwide exposure. Trends have changed, too. When we started in the ’80s, almost every guitar we made had a Floyd Rose tremolo on it.
The elegant neck carve of a Tom Anderson Short T.
What was the inspiration for your new 24 ¾"-scale Short T model?
I had been talking to some acoustic fingerstyle players and they said, “When you get older, these longer-scale guitars get tougher to play.” Doing this guitar-building thing for 30 years, my hands have had a rough life, so for the last ten years I have been really enjoying playing our shorter-scale guitars—our Cobras. On a whim one day, I thought, “What if we do all the traditional woods but do it short scale?” A lot of the previous [Fender-style] short-scale stuff had mahogany bodies, Floyd Roses, 24 frets, and humbuckers. You haven’t seen many Teles that leave the traditional stuff alone but change the scale.
I made one for myself to see if it would sound anything like a regular Tele, and I was a pleasantly surprised that it seemed to retain its Tele-ness but removed some of the things that can make Teles hard to play. We knew that the short scale would make it play easier and make strings easier to bend—I play .011s on the Short T and it feels like .010s—but the sound was the real question. It turned out that the sound is just a little fuller, almost as if you are tuned down to Eb.
Are you still doing them with traditional Tele woods like alder and ash?
Yeah, they have all been either alder or ash backs, and we do a lot of them hollow. I really the love the liveliness of hollow guitars. My favorite is alder back, alder top, and a maple neck.
A long view of a new Tom Anderson Short T showing the company’s trademark double strap buttons—which enable both quick strap adjustment and stable positioning on the floor.
Are there any other differences other than scale length?
The way we make it, the 22nd fret is in the same place as the long scale—we don’t just shorten one end, so the guitar is still centered on your body. The pickups are moved around the scale so that they have the same harmonic placement. The bridge is moved closer to the neck, and the nut is closer to the body.
Why don’t you use the typical Telecaster-style bridge?
In our early days, a few of the LA guys we made guitars for were playing high-gain music and had issues with microphonics. We tried all kinds of things, then I remembered that on Jeff Beck’s humbucker-equipped Tele they had just whacked off the plate. I did that on one for John Hiatt’s guitarist, and the problem was solved. It completely eliminated the microphonics problem, so we started making them that way.
Do you find that you lose any of the essential Tele sound?
I don’t. Maybe it’s because we make everything else differently to compensate. We are not taking an old thing and building everything around that. We are starting from scratch with, “What do we need to do to make it sound like we want it to?”—not the concept that it needs to sound like this old ’52 Tele. There are things that we love about old guitars and some things that we don’t.
What has the reaction been so far?
The reaction has been spectacular. Numerous people picked it up at the NAMM show this year, and they said, “This feels so good.” We would say, “That’s a shorter scale,” and they would say, “No way!” You don’t think about it being a shorter scale, you just think, “This is a really good Tele.”
The idiosyncratic, Summer of Love-era Musicraft Messenger had a short-lived run and some unusual appointments, but still has some appreciators out there.
Funky, mysterious, and rare as hen’s teeth, the Musicraft Messenger is a far-out vintage guitar that emerged in the Summer of Love and, like so many heady ideas at the time, didn’t last too much longer.
The brainchild of Bert Casey and Arnold Curtis, Musicraft was a short-lived endeavor, beginning in San Francisco in 1967 and ending soon thereafter in Astoria, Oregon. Plans to expand their manufacturing in the new locale seemed to have fizzled out almost as soon as they started.
Until its untimely end, Musicraft made roughly 250 Messengers in various configurations: the mono-output Messenger and the flagship Messenger Stereophonic, both of which could come with the “Tone Messer” upgrade, a built-in distortion/fuzz circuit. The company’s first catalog also featured a Messenger Bass, a wireless transmitter/receiver, and various models of its Messenger Envoy amplifier, very few of which have survived, if many were ever made at all.
“To this day, even fans will sometimes call the decision to use DeArmonds the Messenger’s ‘Achilles’ heel.’”
Upon its release, the Messenger was a mix of futuristic concepts and DeArmond single-coil pickups that were more likely to be found on budget instruments than pricier guitars such as these. The Messengers often featured soapbar-style DeArmonds, though some sported a diamond grille. (To this day, even fans will sometimes call the decision to use DeArmonds the Messenger’s “Achilles’ heel.”) The Stereophonic model, like the one featured in this edition of Vintage Vault, could be plugged into a single amplifier as normal, or you could split the bridge and neck pickup outputs to two separate amps.
One of the beloved hallmarks of the guitars are their magnesium-aluminum alloy necks, which continue as a center block straight through the tailpiece, making the guitars relatively lightweight and virtually immune to neck warping, while enhancing their playability. Thanks to the strength of that metal-neck design, there’s no need for a thick heel where it meets the body, granting unprecedented access to the higher end of the fretboard.
This Stereophonic model could be plugged into a single amplifier as normal, or you could split the bridge and neck pickup outputs to two separate amps.
The neck was apparently also tuned to have a resonant frequency of 440 Hz, which, in all honesty, may be some of that 1967 “whoa, man” marketing continuing on through our modern-day guitar discourse, where this fact is still widely repeated on forums and in YouTube videos. (As one guitar aficionado to the next, what does this even mean in practice? Would an inaudible vibration at that frequency have any effect at all on the tone of the guitar?)
In any event, the combination of that metal center block—resonant frequency or not—the apple-shaped hollow wooden body of the guitar, and the cat’s-eye-style “f-holes” did make it prone to gnarly fits of feedback, especially if you engaged the Tone Messer fuzz and blasted it all through the high-gain amp stacks favored by the era’s hard rockers.
The most famous devotee of the Messenger was Grand Funk Railroad’s Mark Farner, who used the guitar—and its Tone Messer circuitry—extensively on the group’s string of best-selling records and in their defining live shows, like the Atlanta Pop Festival 1970 and their sold-out run at New York’s Shea Stadium in 1971. But even Farner had some misgivings.
The Messengers often featured soapbar-style DeArmonds, though some sported a diamond grille.
In a 2009 interview, he talked about his first test-run of the guitar: “After I stuffed it full of foam and put masking tape over the f-holes to stop that squeal, I said, ‘I like it.’” He bought it for $200, on a $25-per-pop installment plan, a steal even at the time. (He also made it over with a psychedelic paint job, befitting the era, and experimented with different pickups over the years.)
When these guitars were new in 1967, the Messenger Stereophonic in morning sunburst, midnight sunburst, or mojo red would have run you $340. By 1968, new stereo models started at $469.50. Recent years have seen prices for vintage models steadily increase, as the joy of this rarity continues to thrill players and collectors. Ten years ago, you could still get them for about $1,500, but now prices range from $3,000 to $6,000, depending on condition.
Our Vintage Vault pick today is listed on Reverb by Chicago’s own SS Vintage. Given that it’s the stereo model, in very good condition, and includes the Tone Messer upgrade, its asking price of $5,495 is near the top-end for these guitars today, but within the usual range. To those readers who appreciate the vintage vibe but don’t want the vintage price tag, Eastwood Guitars offers modern reissues, and eagle-eyed buyers can also find some very rare but less expensive vintage MIJ clones made in the late ’60s and early ’70s.
Sources: Reverb listing from SS Vintage, Reverb Price Guide sales data, Musicraft July 1, 1967 Price Schedule, 1968 Musicraft Catalog, Chicago Music Exchange’s “Uncovering The Secret Sounds of the 1967 Musicraft Messenger Guitar,” MusicPickups.com article on the Messenger.Metalocalypse creator Brendon Small has been a lifetime devotee and thrash-metal expert, so we invited him to help us break down what makes Slayer so great.
Slayer guitarists Kerry King and Jeff Hanneman formed the original searing 6-string front line of the most brutal band in the land. Together, they created an aggressive mood of malcontent with high-velocity thrash riffs and screeching solos that’ll slice your speaker cones. The only way to create a band more brutal than Slayer would be to animate them, and that’s exactly what Metalocalypse (and Home Movies) creator Brendon Small did.
From his first listen, Small has been a lifetime devotee and thrash-metal expert, so we invited him to help us break down what makes Slayer so great. Together, we dissect King and Hanneman’s guitar styles and list their angriest, most brutal songs, as well as those that create a mood of general horribleness.
This episode is sponsored by EMG Pickups.
Use code EMG100 for 15% off at checkout!
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Pearl Jam announces U.S. tour dates for April and May 2025 in support of their album Dark Matter.
In continued support of their 3x GRAMMY-nominated album Dark Matter, Pearl Jam will be touring select U.S. cities in April and May 2025.
Pearl Jam’s live dates will start in Hollywood, FL on April 24 and 26 and wrap with performances in Pittsburgh, PA on May 16 and 18. Full tour dates are listed below.
Support acts for these dates will be announced in the coming weeks.
Tickets for these concerts will be available two ways:
- A Ten Club members-only presale for all dates begins today. Only paid Ten Club members active as of 11:59 PM PT on December 4, 2024 are eligible to participate in this presale. More info at pearljam.com.
- Public tickets will be available through an Artist Presale hosted by Ticketmaster. Fans can sign up for presale access for up to five concert dates now through Tuesday, December 10 at 10 AM PT. The presale starts Friday, December 13 at 10 AM local time.
earl Jam strives to protect access to fairly priced tickets by providing the majority of tickets to Ten Club members, making tickets non-transferable as permitted, and selling approximately 10% of tickets through PJ Premium to offset increased costs. Pearl Jam continues to use all-in pricing and the ticket price shown includes service fees. Any applicable taxes will be added at checkout.
For fans unable to use their purchased tickets, Pearl Jam and Ticketmaster will offer a Fan-to-Fan Face Value Ticket Exchange for every city, starting at a later date. To sell tickets through this exchange, you must have a valid bank account or debit card in the United States. Tickets listed above face value on secondary marketplaces will be canceled. To help protect the Exchange, Pearl Jam has also chosen to make tickets for this tour mobile only and restricted from transfer. For more information about the policy issues in ticketing, visit fairticketing.com.
For more information, please visit pearljam.com.
The legendary German hard-rock guitarist deconstructs his expressive playing approach and recounts critical moments from his historic career.
This episode has three main ingredients: Shifty, Schenker, and shredding. What more do you need?
Chris Shiflett sits down with Michael Schenker, the German rock-guitar icon who helped launch his older brother Rudolf Schenker’s now-legendary band, Scorpions. Schenker was just 11 when he played his first gig with the band, and recorded on their debut LP, Lonesome Crow, when he was 16. He’s been playing a Gibson Flying V since those early days, so its only natural that both he and Shifty bust out the Vs for this occasion.
While gigging with Scorpions in Germany, Schenker met and was poached by British rockers UFO, with whom he recorded five studio records and one live release. (Schenker’s new record, released on September 20, celebrates this pivotal era with reworkings of the material from these albums with a cavalcade of high-profile guests like Axl Rose, Slash, Dee Snider, Adrian Vandenberg, and more.) On 1978’s Obsession, his last studio full-length with the band, Schenker cut the solo on “Only You Can Rock Me,” which Shifty thinks carries some of the greatest rock guitar tone of all time. Schenker details his approach to his other solos, but note-for-note recall isn’t always in the cards—he plays from a place of deep expression, which he says makes it difficult to replicate his leads.
Tune in to learn how the Flying V impacted Schenker’s vibrato, the German parallel to Page, Beck, and Clapton, and the twists and turns of his career from Scorpions, UFO, and MSG to brushes with the Rolling Stones.
Credits
Producer: Jason Shadrick
Executive Producers: Brady Sadler and Jake Brennan for Double Elvis
Engineering Support by Matt Tahaney and Matt Beaudion
Video Editor: Addison Sauvan
Graphic Design: Megan Pralle
Special thanks to Chris Peterson, Greg Nacron, and the entire Volume.com crew.