Duane Betts enjoys a control set modification that was preferred by his father, the late, legendary Dickey Betts.
Duane Betts and reader Steve Nowicki join the PG staff to discuss their favorite ways to customize their setups.
Question: What’s your favorite guitar mod?
Guest Picker - Duane Betts
Betts’ 1961 ES-335 has its toggle and volume-dial positions switched.
A: My favorite mod is the one on my 1961 Gibson ES-335. The toggle switch and neck volume knob positions have been switched so the volume knob is more accessible for volume swells using your pinky finger. This is something my dad had done when he obtained the guitar in the ’90s as he loved using the volume swell effect.
A pedal primed for vintage fuzz sounds.
Obsession: My current obsession is this DanDrive Secret Machine fuzz that JD Simo gave me a few years ago. I don’t use fuzz often but I’ve loved it as a way to change things up and give the listener something fresh. My normal tone is very natural with the amp turned up. This is just a great fuzz tone that gives me a new angle that I really enjoy pursuing both live and in the studio.
Reader of the Month - Steve Nowicki
A: A push/pull knob for humbucker coil split. It’s a sneaky little mod I throw on my tone pots. You won’t get amazing Strat tone, but the ability to instantly swap between Les Paul chunk and Fender twang during a jam opens a ton of possibilities tonally. Plus, no extra switches or routing needed—even though it’s fun to hack guitars apart.
Obsession: The EVH 5150 Iconic EL34 amp. Owning an 80-watt half-stack in a Brooklyn apartment might be overkill, but damn this amp is awesome. It delivers insane amounts of gain and distortion, yet every little nuance of your playing comes through crystal clear. I pair it with a Bugera Power Soak so I can crank the head and get that warm “Brown Sound” tone at lower volumes.
John Bohlinger - Nashville Correspondent
John Bohlinger and his Lukather-ized Strat.
A: I’ve hacked up a bunch of guitars over the years, but my favorite mod remains the highly intrusive, expensive, and quixotic B-bender install. It is the equivalent of open heart surgery, and there’s no going back—but the first time you play the Clarence White “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” intro right, it’s totally worth it.
John at work. When it comes to mods, he know the drill!
Obsession: I recently filmed a PG video where we swapped pickups in my ’90s Strat with an EMG Lukather set. I never thought I’d go active, but what gets me is how smoothly the volume and tone work. I’m rethinking all my gear biases. Like maybe there’s been some progress since 1957.
Jon Levy - Publisher
Let it bleed: Jon dials back the treble on his Tele.
A: Installing a treble bleed on my volume pots has changed how I play electric guitar. Previously, I never dialed back my volume knob because it dulled my sound. Now I can fine-tune loudness and gain while retaining tone—it’s a game changer. I still swap pickups and hardware, but one mod always comes first: the humble treble bleed.
Did you know both John Paul Jones and Jimmy Page played on Shirley Bassey’s iconic recording of “Goldfinger?”
Obsession: John Paul Jones. I’ve always loved his bass (and other instrumental contributions) with Led Zeppelin. But after seeing the Zep documentary [Becoming Led Zeppelin] I searched his session work from 1964–1968, which includes Shirley Bassey, Lulu, Donovan and more. What an amazingly versatile and talented artist he is!
Just like guitarists, audiophiles are chasing sound. It may be a never-ending quest.
“What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got, say, pitiful, portable picnic players. Come with uncle and hear all proper. Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones.”—Alexander DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) in the film A Clockwork Orange.
We listen to recorded music for enjoyment and inspiration, but few of us expect recordings to rival the experience of live music. Most guitarists know that the average home sound system, let alone Bluetooth boomboxes, cannot reproduce the weight and depth equal to standing in a room with a full-blown concert guitar rig. Also, classical music lovers recognize that a home system won’t reproduce the visceral envelope of a live orchestra. Still, much like guitarists, audiophiles spend huge amounts of time and money chasing the ultimate “realistic” audio experience. I wonder if sometimes that’s misguided.
My exposure to the audio hobby came early, from my father’s influence. My dad grew up in the revolution of home electronics, and being an amateur musician, he wanted good reproduction of the recordings he cherished. This led him to stock our home with tube components and DIY electrostatic hybrid speakers that rivaled the size and output of vintage Fender 2x12s. I thought this was normal.
Later, I discovered a small shop in my hometown that specialized in “high end” audiophile gear. They had a policy: No sale is final until you are completely satisfied. I became an almost weekly visitor (and paying customer) and was allowed to take equipment home to audition, which was dangerous for a young man on a low budget. It was through this program I started to understand the ins and outs of building a cohesive system that met my taste. I began to pay much more attention to the nuances of audio reproduction. Some gear revealed a whole new level of accuracy when it came to acoustic or vocal performance, while lacking the kick-ass punch I desired of my rock albums. I was seeking reproduction that would gently caress the sounds on folk, classical, and jazz recordings, but could also slay when the going got heavy. This made me a bit of an odd bird to the guys at the audio shop, but they wanted to please. With their guidance I assembled some decent systems over time, but through the decades, I lost interest in the chase.
Recently, I’ve begun perusing online audiophile boards and they seem oddly familiar, with tube versus solid-state discussions that might feel at home to guitarists—except the prices are now beyond what I’d imagined. For the most part, they mirror the exchanges we see on guitar boards minus the potty-mouth language. Enthusiasts exchange information and opinions (mostly) on what gear presents the widest soundstage or most detailed high-frequency delivery, all in flowery language usually reserved for fine wines.
Speaking of whining, you’ll rethink your idea of expensive cables when you hear folks comparing 18", $1,700 interconnects for their DACs. Some of the systems I’ve seen are more costly than an entire guitar, amplifier, and studio gear collection by a serious margin. Mostly, the banter is cordial and avoids the humble-bragging that might go along with the purchase of a $10,000 set of PAF humbuckers. Still, I have a lack of insight into what exactly most are trying to accomplish.
If you’ve ever worked in a big-time studio, you know that the soundscape blasting out of huge monitors is not what most of us have in our homes. My experience rewiring pro-studio patchbays is that less emphasis is placed on oxygen-free, silver-plated, directional cables than the room treatment. I’ve found myself wondering if the people on those audio boards—who have spent many tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars on their home systems—have ever been in a studio control room listening to music as loud as a 28,000 horsepower traffic jam of NASCAR racers. That might be an eye-opener.
One of my takeaways is that even though music recording began as an attempt to reproduce what actually happens in a room, it hasn’t been just that for a long time. With all our effects and sonic wizardry on display, recording is like playing an instrument itself, and much more complex. This is not a new revelation to Beatles fans.
What amazes me is that both audiophiles and guitar fanatics pursue the sounds we hear on recordings for differing reasons and with subjective results. It’s a feedback-loop game, where we chase sounds mostly exclusive to the studio. So, how do we determine if our playback is accurate? Will we ever be satisfied enough to call the sale final?
I’m not convinced, but just the same, I’ll continue my own search for the holy grail of affordable, kick-ass sound that still loves a folk guitar
Here’s Chris Martin surrounded by a group of guitars created to commemorate his family’s 192-year history.
The home organ once ruled the world, only to go extinct. Is the acoustic guitar next?
When I was growing up, my Aunt Kate had a home organ in her living room. Back then, home organs were everywhere. They were sold at malls across America, and were a staple of post-WWII households. Brands like Lowrey, Magnus, and Hammond dominated the market. Lowrey, a division of Norlin (which eventually acquired Gibson), was especially massive. In fact, in a year where Gibson generated $19 million in revenue, Lowrey pulled in a staggering $100 million.
But like all booms, the home organ’s success was temporary. By the 1980s, it had gone bust. A huge contributing factor was the entrance of Casio: a more affordable, portable alternative that rendered the home organ obsolete.
Thankfully, the acoustic guitar has always had portability on its side. I’ve witnessed three major acoustic-guitar booms in my lifetime: the folk and folk-rock explosion of the late ’50s through the late ’70s, the MTV Unplugged resurgence, and most recently, the COVID-era surge.
The ’80s, however, were a tough time for acoustic guitar builders. That decade belonged to pointy electric guitars and hair metal. But the acoustic guitar came back. And unlike the home organ, it has not only endured, but thrived.
My great-grandfather capitalized on the demand for mandolins in the early part of the 20th century. We also tried to make and sell banjos. In addition to that, we made archtops, and although they weren’t as popular as some other brands, we did borrow the 14-fret neck.
While we were making 12-fret guitars with steel strings (the real benefit of that era was a dramatic improvement in the quality of steel strings), we discovered that many players wanted more access to the body and a slimmer profile. Starting with a 000-size guitar, we quickly converted many of our models to the new modern neck design, most notably our dreadnought model. The timing was right, as the dreadnought became the go-to guitar for country music. The steel-string flattop would lend itself to a fantastic melding of styles and types of music from around the world (and around the corner), becoming the driving voice of not just country, but also folk and many other genres.
Baby boomers (myself included) grew up with the sound of the acoustic guitar, and playing the music of our youth remains an essential part of any enthusiast’s repertoire. Our generation is not only large but also living longer, thanks to modern medicine and healthier lifestyles. Many of us have accumulated wealth, and for those of us in the business of making and selling guitars, that’s good news.
I mean no disrespect when I say, “Thank goodness I wasn’t born into the world’s most famous accordion-making family.” Accordions had their day, just as the home organ once did. Interestingly, accordions still have a niche following, whereas the home organ is now a historical artifact. While home organs were, for a time, all the rage, I doubt that even at the peak of their popularity anyone owned more than one. Quite a different situation when it comes to guitars and guitar collecting.
I do wish I could share with my ancestors how popular the guitar continues to be.
Every so often, someone writes an article with a headline like, “Is the Guitar Dead?” My answer is simple: no.
As long as we boomers—and everybody else—keep playing.