Fender Vintera II ’50s Jazzmaster, ’60s Stratocaster, and ’70s Jaguar Review
Three new models from the Mexico-made Vintera II series offer refinements and, in some cases, uniquely stylish alternatives.
It sounds just like you want a Strat to sound—a bit boxier than top-shelf Strat’s perhaps, but colorful all the same. Nice neck. Beautiful fit and finish and a lovely rosewood fretboard.
Neck could use a bit more taper toward the nut and a little more contour at the edges. Vintage tall frets may not be everyone’s cup of tea.
$1,149
Fender Vintera II ’60s Stratocaster
fender.com
For Fender-philes that love vintage details, the first Vintera guitars, introduced in 2019, were welcome news. The Mexico-made series featured several custom colors rarely seen on the company’s more affordable instruments, the classic 7.25" fretboard radius returned, and the price was nice—most models were $899.
To players that cherished the Vintera guitars for their embrace of idiosyncratic and vintage-authentic elements, the expanded Vintera II series will probably seem like a Christmas stocking exploding from a Thanksgiving cornucopia into a Fourth of July fireworks finale. The burgeoning line now includes the Bass VI and competition stripe Mustang, a Telecaster Bass, and a Thinline Telecaster. It’s a beautiful batch of instruments that showcases some of the company’s most beloved and fascinating zigs and zags away from the norm, as well as several standard bearers.
While the three instruments that Fender sent our way don’t include the oddest of the series’ oddities, they still span the spectrum between the iconic, in the form of the ’60s Stratocaster, and more obscure instruments like the ’70s Jaguar with maple neck and black block fret markers. Two of our review guitars feature rosewood fretboards, which see a welcome return after the original Vintera series’ embrace of pau ferro fretboards. All three are built with alder bodies (only the Vintera II Telecaster Thinline is built with ash). Like just about any consumer goods, the new Vintera II guitars are affected by the realities of post-pandemic economics, and our review guitars range from $1,149 for the Stratocaster (which isn’t completely bonkers, given global inflation across the board) to $1,499 for the Jaguar, which is a bit more startling. Crossing the $1K threshold will be a tricky psychological hurdle for players accustomed to Mexico-made Fenders in the three-figure range. But as Paul Weller said, this is the modern world. And what’s reassuring is that the quality of these guitars is generally excellent, rivaling more expensive guitars in many respects.
Vintera II ’60s Stratocaster
A sunburst ’60s-style Stratocaster can elicit many different reactions: “Hello Old Faithful,” “You again?,” and “ahhhh...perfection” among them. Its form is familiar, beautiful, and balanced. In its Vintera II guise, the ’60s Stratocaster feels pretty great, too.
I once visited George Gruhn at the old Gruhn Guitars shop in Nashville and hung out a while in the little annex adjacent to the office where he kept his most primo stuff. Every A-list, vintage guitar model was there. But the one I can still feel in my hand to this day was a Lake Placid blue 1964 Stratocaster. The neck was perfect—a beautiful taper from a substantial oval at the 12th fret to a lovely, almost slim-and-narrow-feeling profile at the nut.
The Vintera II is heftier and blockier between the 5th fret and nut, and less contoured at the edges than many real ’60s Fender necks including that recalled 1964 Stratocaster. But they nail many other virtues—most notably the thickness from the 5th fret up. Like all the Vintera II guitars, and many others in the modern Fender line, the ’60s Stratocaster uses vintage tall fret wire rather than true vintage-spec frets. The difference doesn’t always feel huge, but it’s apparent. Hammer-ons and pull-offs feel a touch snappier and bending feels slick. If you have a heavy-handed approach to chording you might hear some notes go a little sharp. Players with a more nuanced touch shouldn’t have to worry much. Still, I wish Fender had gone the whole way to vintage spec and used shorter fret wire, which, in my book, feels great with a 7.25" radius. The rosewood fretboard, by the way, looks beautiful. Many of the pao ferro boards from the original Vintera could look chalky and arid, but the rosewood on the Vintera II looks deep and full of characterful grain.
Ring My Bell
Though there are many perfect amplifier companions for a vintage-style Stratocaster, I used a Tremolux piggyback and Fender Reverb tank with the reverb dwell laid on thick for much of this evaluation. The ’60s Stratocaster bridge pickup sparkles, splashes, and slashes in this very pre-CBS environment. It sounds sharp and focused, and pops with clear bell tones colored with a hint of trashy attitude. With a little less reverb, it dishes jangly Heartbreakers rhythm tones and punky Buddy Guy daggers. The out-of-phase fourth position conjures spanky Big Star-isms, and the middle position generates sweet circa-’72 Jerry Garcia dew drops and full-bodied rhythm. The neck pickup is primed for soul ballads, Gilmour space flight, and Kurt Cobain riffs. To state the obvious, these pickups cover a lot of ground. If you can level any complaint about them at all it’s that they lack some of the high-end detail of more expensive counterparts and sound a touch boxier as a result. Could you hear that in a band mix? Hard to say. I’d venture that many Stratocaster snobs would feel pretty good with taking this guitar on stage.
The Verdict
Full of punchy, spanky, slippery, and silvery tones, the ’60s Stratocaster feels like an old bud, a warm blanket, or an ages-old chisel. Like any Stratocaster, it has a very familiar, at times doctrinaire, personality. But that classic Straty-ness is sweet in the Vintera II edition.
While fit and finish were practically perfect on our test guitar, there was room for fine tuning. The G and B strings went flat more than I would like and the vibrato could be a little smoother and hold tune a bit better. I’d think these are problems easily fixed with a good setup—or even just a little care at home. That said, even in inflationary times it's nice to have those issues ironed out on a guitar north of $1K. When it’s all working though, the Vintera II ’60s Stratocaster feels alive and addictive.
Vintera II ’50s Jazzmaster
The Jazzmaster was born with about 18 months remaining in the 1950s. And while it’s easy to align the Telecaster and Stratocaster with other facets of ’50s culture and iconography, the Jazzmaster is, at least in my addled head, synonymous with the 1960s and beyond, making the notion of a representative ’50s Jazzmaster a curious one. But at least superficially, ’50s Jazzmasters were unique instruments marking a transitional time for Fender. Those in-between aesthetic elements make the ’50s Jazzmaster, which comes in desert sand and sonic blue, among the most distinctive looking guitars in the Vintera II line. Both colors are interesting choices for representing a ’50s Jazzmaster. Sonic blue is more associated with 1960s custom-color guitars, and desert sand, while a common ’50s Fender color, was generally seen on more inexpensive Duo Sonics and Musicmasters. Nevertheless, both hues look natural with the very-’50s gold-anodized pickguard. And on our desert sand review model, the rich slab-rosewood fretboard and gold pickguard help make the whole package look like a delicious chocolate-and-creme confection nestled in a gold foil wrapper. And I, for one, am all for guitar color schemes that evoke yummy food.
The Jazzmaster’s late-50s C neck is discernibly slimmer than the ’60s Stratocaster’s ’60s C shape—a potential surprise to those that associate ’50s Fenders with thick necks. Paradoxically, perhaps, the shape gives the ’50s Jazzmaster a more generic, contemporary feel than the ’60s Stratocaster. Yet it’s comfortable and feels fast, even if it leaves you longing for a little extra thickness from the 7th fret up. It’s hard to take issue with the Jazzmaster’s playability, though, which is lovely. I was certain that a Jazzmaster with a setup this low would fret out a bit, but two step bends from the 12th fret up went without a hitch. And in general the Jazzmaster feels a little faster under the fingers than the Stratocaster.
Of Zing and Springs
Like the Stratocaster’s pickups, the ’50s Jazzmaster’s pickups sound narrower and less lively in the high end than the pickups in more expensive American Vintage II counterparts (and, in this case, the 1964 Jazzmaster on hand for comparison). But the basic voice is still very recognizably a Jazzmaster, and without context—or in a mix—they would probably fool experienced listeners. The bridge pickup is sharp and zingy, the middle position atmospheric and warm. And the neck pickup is sweet and round. They are relatively free of noise, too—a distinction many Jazzmasters cannot claim.
If there is a single significant shortcoming in the ’50s Jazzmaster, it’s in the vibrato, which, in our review guitar, is prone to clacking sounds, particularly when you use a fast vibrato arm technique. This is a familiar issue in affordable, non-vintage Jazzmasters and Jaguars. (I run into Japan-made offsets from the ’90s with the same knocking problem.) Suggested and proven fixes for the issue range from loosening the vibrato tension screw to sticking tape between the bridge and vibrato plates. But given how much of the joy—and extended expressiveness— of playing a Jazzmaster is rooted in the beautifully bouncy and elastic vibrato, it would be nice to experience the best version of Jazzmaster vibrato right out of the gigbag.
The Verdict
Clicking vibrato aside, the ’50s Jazzmaster is a very well made instrument that looks and feels more expensive. The guitar’s essential voice sounds authentic if a bit less widescreen than that of a vintage or American Vintage II specimen, and it feels fantastic in hand across the whole length of the fretboard.
Vintera II ’70s Jaguar
Charting guitar fashion via the British Invasion clock, you could make the case that Fender’s Jaguar started to fall out of vogue by the summer of 1965—Chris Dreja’s appearance with one on the cover of Having a Rave Up with the Yardbirds notwithstanding. But by the early ’70s, with Stratocasters topping the Fender hit parade, Telecasters adopting very Gibson-like humbuckers, and with Marquee Moon still a few years down the road, the jet-age Jaguar had most certainly ceased to look groovy to the natural finish and bell bottoms set. That didn’t keep Fender from taking a few final stabs at breathing life into its former flagship model—yielding the maple-neck-with-black-block look of the ’70s.
Though it has its fans, the maple-necked Jaguar is a peculiar marriage of design elements. To my eye, at least, the chrome on a Jaguar works best against a simple dot-inlay rosewood fretboard, which offers balance and dark counterpoint to the gleaming metal. Both of the colors that Fender offers in the Vintera II series make the maple neck work more effectively. Against the vanilla shade of the vintage white finish, the honey-tinted maple looks like pie crust against cream, and on our gloss black review model, the black block inlay is a stylish echo of the body’s finish. Fender picked well when selecting these color schemes.
Chokin' Up
I have friends that flat-out just don’t relate to Jaguars. That’s fine. I get it. If you’re used to a 25 1/2"scale, the Jag’s 24" scale can feel pokey, plinky, and petite. Even I sometimes find it tricky to switch between a Jazzmaster and a Jaguar mid-set for this reason. But the Jaguar is also a very funky guitar—not necessarily in the James Brown sense, but in the way the shorter, more compact-feeling neck (with an extra fret, compared to the Jazzmaster and Stratocaster) feels fluid, fast, and snappy once you get used to it. The focused, not-too-muscular fundamentals sound amazing for Malian guitar textures, splashy surf tones, Velvets garage haze, and concise, fuzzy psychedelic leads. I love all of those sounds and frequently use Jaguars to make them, so you can consider my opinion biased. But I think the Jaguar functions in a unique and compelling way in these environments, and others, that will appeal to players not weighted down by tone dogma. Our review Jaguar, by the way, is the slinkiest playing of the three guitars profiled here. The short scale feels incredibly fast. The neck also has the most comfortable profile of the three guitars—a thicker C that feels substantial and serves as a nice balance to the short scale. The vibrato is pronouncedly smoother than that on the Jazzmaster and less prone to clicking noises under all but the most fast and vigorous shaking.
The pickups, like the neck, will be polarizing. I heard everything I like about Jaguars here: focus, a less bossy, less-full-spectrum output that’s chimey, airy, rich with concise overtones, and not too fat for jangly arpeggios or fast, funk rhythms. Like all the Vintera II pickups, the Jaguar’s are a little less detailed and oxygenated than more expensive or vintage counterparts, but they have the accent down. I’ve played a lot of Jags over the years, and in terms of tone, this one was no less recognizable as a Jaguar, and just as fun in most respects.
The Verdict
At $1,499, the Vintera II ’70s Jaguar is a full 200 bucks more than the Jazzmaster and 300 more than the Stratocaster. While the unusual black neck binding and block markers might account for some additional “exotic” manufacturing expense, it’s difficult to understand what accounts for the price, which starts to teeter uncomfortably away from the accessible category. Yet the Jaguar was the nicest playing and certainly the most unique feeling of the three Vintera II instruments reviewed here, and immensely inspiring for it.
Fender Vintera II Series! '50s Jazzmaster, '60s Stratocaster & '70s Jaguar Demos | First Look
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Selenium, an alternative to silicon and germanium, helps make an overdrive of great nuance and delectable boost and low-gain overdrive tones.
Clever application of alternative materials that results in a simple, make-everything-sound-better boost and low-gain overdrive.
Might not have enough overdrive for some tastes (although that’s kind of the idea).
$240 street
Cusack Project 34 Selenium Rectifier Pre/Drive Pedal
cusackmusic.com
The term “selenium rectifier” might be Greek to most guitarists, but if it rings a bell with any vintage-amp enthusiasts that’s likely because you pulled one of these green, sugar-cube-sized components out of your amp’s tube-biasing network to replace it with a silicon diode.
That’s a long-winded way of saying that, just like silicon or germanium diodes—aka “rectifiers”—the lesser-seen selenium can also be used for gain stages in a preamp or drive pedal. Enter the new Project 34 Selenium Rectifier Pre/Drive from Michigan-based boutique maker Cusack, named after the element’s atomic number, of course.
An Ounce of Pre-Vention
As quirky as the Project 34 might seem, it’s not the first time that company founder Jon Cusack indulged his long-standing interest in the element. In 2021, he tested the waters with a small 20-unit run of the Screamer Fuzz Selenium pedal and has now tamed the stuff further to tap levels of gain running from pre-boost to light overdrive. Having used up his supply of selenium rectifiers on the fuzz run, however, Cusack had to search far and wide to find more before the Project 34 could launch.
“Today they are usually relegated to just a few larger industrial and military applications,” Cusack reports, “but after over a year of searching we finally located what we needed to make another pedal. While they are a very expensive component, they certainly do have a sound of their own.”
The control interface comprises gain, level, and a traditional bright-to-bassy tone knob, the range of which is increased exponentially by the 3-position contour switch: Up summons medium bass response, middle is flat response with no bass boost, and down is maximum bass boost. The soft-touch, non-latching footswitch taps a true-bypass on/off state, and power requires a standard center-negative 9V supply rated at for least 5 mA of current draw, but you can run the Project 34 on up to 18V DC.
Going Nuclear
Tested with a Telecaster and an ES-355 into a tweed Deluxe-style 1x12 combo and a 65 Amps London head and 2x12 cab, the Project 34 is a very natural-sounding low-gain overdrive with a dynamic response and just enough compression that it doesn’t flatten the touchy-feely pick attack. The key adjectives here are juicy, sweet, rich, and full. It’s never harsh or grating.
“The gain knob is pretty subtle from 10 o’clock up, which actually helps keep the Project 34 in character.”
There’s plenty of output available via the level control, but the gain knob is pretty subtle from 10 o’clock up, which actually helps keep the Project 34 in character. Settings below there remain relatively clean—amp-setting dependent, of course—and from that point on up the overdrive ramps up very gradually, which, in amp-like fashion, is heard as a slight increase in saturation and compression. The pedal was especially fantastic with the Telecaster and the tweed-style combo, but also interacted really well with humbuckers into EL84s, which certainly can’t be said for all overdrives.
The Verdict
Although I almost hate to use the term, the Project 34 is a very organic gain stage that just makes everything sound better, and does so with a selenium-driven voice that’s an interesting twist on the standard preamp/drive. For all the variations on boost and low/medium-gain overdrive out there it’s still a very welcome addition to the market, and definitely worth checking out—particularly if you’re looking for subtler shades of overdrive.
You may know the Gibson EB-6, but what you may not know is that its first iteration looked nothing like its latest.
When many guitarists first encounter Gibson’s EB-6, a rare, vintage 6-string bass, they assume it must be a response to the Fender Bass VI. And manyEB-6 basses sport an SG-style body shape, so they do look exceedingly modern. (It’s easy to imagine a stoner-rock or doom-metal band keeping one amid an arsenal of Dunables and EGCs.) But the earliest EB-6 basses didn’t look anything like SGs, and they arrived a full year before the more famous Fender.
The Gibson EB-6 was announced in 1959 and came into the world in 1960, not with a dual-horn body but with that of an elegant ES-335. They looked stately, with a thin, semi-hollow body, f-holes, and a sunburst finish. Our pick for this Vintage Vault column is one such first-year model, in about as original condition as you’re able to find today. “Why?” you may be asking. Well, read on....
When the EB-6 was introduced, the Bass VI was still a glimmer in Leo Fender’s eye. The real competition were the Danelectro 6-string basses that seemed to have popped up out of nowhere and were suddenly being used on lots of hit records by the likes of Elvis, Patsy Cline, and other household names. Danos like the UB-2 (introduced in ’56), the Longhorn 4623 (’58), and the Shorthorn 3612 (’58) were the earliest attempts any company made at a 6-string bass in this style: not quite a standard electric bass, not quite a guitar, nor, for that matter, quite like a baritone guitar.
The only change this vintage EB-6 features is a replacement set of Kluson tuners.
Photo by Ken Lapworth
Gibson, Fender, and others during this era would in fact call these basses “baritone guitars,” to add to our confusion today. But these vintage “baritones” were all tuned one octave below a standard guitar, with scale lengths around 30", while most modern baritones are tuned B-to-B or A-to-A and have scale lengths between 26" and 30".)
At the time, those Danelectros were instrumental to what was called the “tic-tac” bass sound of Nashville records produced by Chet Atkins, or the “click-bass” tones made out west by producer Lee Hazlewood. Gibson wanted something for this market, and the EB-6 was born.
“When the EB-6 was introduced, the Bass VI was still a glimmer in Leo Fender’s eye.”
The 30.5" scale 1960 EB-6 has a single humbucking pickup, a volume knob, a tone knob, and a small, push-button “Tone Selector Switch” that engages a treble circuit for an instant tic-tac sound. (Without engaging that switch, you get a bass-heavy tone so deep that cowboy chords will sound like a muddy mess.)
The EB-6, for better or for worse, did not unseat the Danelectros, and a November 1959 price list from Gibson hints at why: The EB-6 retailed for $340, compared to Dano price tags that ranged from $85 to $150. Only a few dozen EB-6 basses were shipped in 1960, and only 67 total are known to have been built before Gibson changed the shape to the SG style in 1962.
Most players who come across an EB-6 today think it was a response to the Fender Bass VI, but the former actually beat the latter to the market by a full year.
Photo by Ken Lapworth
It’s sad that so few were built. Sure, it was a high-end model made to achieve the novelty tic-tac sound of cheaper instruments, but in its full-voiced glory, the EB-6 has a huge potential of tones. It would sound great in our contemporary guitar era where more players are exploring baritone ranges, and where so many people got back into the Bass VI after seeing the Beatles play one in the 2021 documentary, Get Back.
It’s sadder, still, how many original-era EB-6s have been parted out in the decades since. Remember earlier when I wrote that our Vintage Vaultpick was about as original as you could find? That’s because the model’s single humbucker is a PAF, its Kluson tuners are double-line, and its knobs are identical to those on Les Paul ’Bursts. So as people repaired broken ’Bursts, converted other LPs to ’Bursts, or otherwise sought to give other Gibsons a “Golden Era” sound and look ... they often stripped these forgotten EB-6 basses for parts.
This original EB-6 is up for sale now from Reverb seller Emerald City Guitars for a $16,950 asking price at the time of writing. The only thing that isn’t original about it is a replacement set of Kluson tuners, not because its originals were stolen but just to help preserve them. (They will be included in the case.)
With so few surviving 335-style EB-6 basses, Reverb doesn’t have a ton of sales data to compare prices to. Ten years ago, a lucky buyer found a nearly original 1960 EB-6 for about $7,000. But Emerald City’s $16,950 asking price is closer to more recent examples and asking prices.
Sources: Prices on Gibson Instruments, November 1, 1959, Tony Bacon’s “Danelectro’s UB-2 and the Early Days of 6-String Basses” Reverb News article, Gruhn’s Guide to Vintage Guitars, Tom Wheeler’s American Guitars: An Illustrated History, Reverb listings and Price Guide sales data.
Some of us love drum machines and synths, and others don’t, but we all love Billy.
Billy Gibbons is an undisputable guitar force whose feel, tone, and all-around vibe make him the highest level of hero. But that’s not to say he hasn’t made some odd choices in his career, like when ZZ Top re-recorded parts of their classic albums for CD release. And fans will argue which era of the band’s career is best. Some of us love drum machines and synths and others don’t, but we all love Billy.
This episode is sponsored by Magnatone
An '80s-era cult favorite is back.
Originally released in the 1980s, the Victory has long been a cult favorite among guitarists for its distinctive double cutaway design and excellent upper-fret access. These new models feature flexible electronics, enhanced body contours, improved weight and balance, and an Explorer headstock shape.
A Cult Classic Made Modern
The new Victory features refined body contours, improved weight and balance, and an updated headstock shape based on the popular Gibson Explorer.
Effortless Playing
With a fast-playing SlimTaper neck profile and ebony fretboard with a compound radius, the Victory delivers low action without fret buzz everywhere on the fretboard.
Flexible Electronics
The two 80s Tribute humbucker pickups are wired to push/pull master volume and tone controls for coil splitting and inner/outer coil selection when the coils are split.
For more information, please visit gibson.com.