Style numbers indicate the construction materials and appointments of the guitar, and this system allows for several combinations between body shapes and styles.
I’ve recently received a few requests for information about the differences amongst the various Martin style types. So this month, I’ll briefly cover what those two digits next to the letter or numbers inside your Martin guitar represent.
C.F. Martin & Co. has most certainly been a pioneer in many ways when it comes to building guitars. But in my opinion, one of their most important innovations was how they began naming their guitars, a system that is still in use today. Martin started building guitars in 1833, and by 1898, they were using a standardized system to number their instruments by body shape and style. The first letters or numbers indicate the body shape (0, 00, OM, D, etc.) that are followed by a style number (15, 18, 28, 45, etc.), and separated by a dash. These style numbers indicate the construction materials and appointments of the guitar, and this system allows for several combinations between body shapes and styles. The following are the main style-classifications for Martin guitars.
Martin style types (left to right): Style 0-15, Style 0-21, Style 00-17, and Style D-28.
Style 15: All-mahogany body, no binding, rosewood fretboard and bridge, dot inlays, single grouping of soundhole rings. For many years, the Style 15 was Martin’s least-expensive guitar and considered a workhorse.
Style 18: Spruce top, mahogany back and sides, multi-ply binding (5-ply since 1932), rosewood fretboard and bridge, dot inlays, multi-ring soundhole ring. The Style 18 originally featured rosewood for the back and sides, but was changed to mahogany in 1917. Style 18 appointments have appeared on virtually every Martin model and it is their most common style.
Style 21: Spruce top, rosewood back and sides, single-ply black or tortoiseshell binding, rosewood or ebony fretboard and bridge (depending on the model). The Style 21 was traditionally Martin’s least-expensive model that used rosewood.
Style 28: Spruce top, rosewood back and sides, multi-ply binding with a white outer layer, ebony fretboard and bridge, dot inlays, a back stripe, and 5/9/5 grouping of soundhole rings. Style 28 instruments are often regarded as the best-playing, best-sounding Martins.
Style 35: Spruce top, 3-piece rosewood back, a bound fretboard, and additional blackand- white lines inlaid beneath the bindings. Otherwise, Style 35 is very similar to the Style 28. The 3-piece back was introduced because large enough pieces of Brazilian rosewood for 2-piece backs were becoming increasingly difficult to obtain in the 1960s.
Style 42: Spruce top, rosewood back and sides, ivory/ ivoroid binding, abalone top-border going around the fretboard, bound-ebony fretboard with snowflake inlays, and an abalone soundhole ring.
Style 45: Similar to the Style 42, except for the additional, abalone-pearl inlays around the sides, back, neck heel, and endpiece. For standard production, the Style 45 represents top-of-the-line appointments for Martin, and many Style 45 instruments— including the D-45 and OM-45—are some of the most valuable guitars on the vintage guitar market today.
Other common styles include the Style 16, which was first used on classical guitars in the 1960s, but is now represented on Martin’s modern, production instruments. The Style 17—very similar to the Style 15—was phased out as a regular production model by 1960 because of their similarities. There is also the Style 41, similar to the Style 42, but without abalone pearl around the fretboard. In fact, there are style classifications for just about every number between 1 and 45—some only produced in the 1800s, others more modern, and some in very small quantities.
This was and still is a well-devised system. Most Martin instruments can be identified and correctly classified by the number stamped inside the guitar. Of course there are exceptions—some minor and some major—as Martin’s styles have changed and evolved over time. Major changes include the switch from Brazilian rosewood to Indian rosewood in 1969 and ivory binding to ivoroid in the early 1900s. But for the most part, this is an enduring classification system.
Martin produces acoustic guitars for just about every price point and there are several books available that explain Martin’s styles in detail. With a little research, you can find out if your Martin is indeed a treasure!
Zachary R. Fjestad is author of Blue Book of Acoustic Guitars, Blue Book of Electric Guitars, and Blue Book of Guitar Amplifiers. For more information, visit bluebookinc.com or email Zach at guitars@bluebookinc.com.
The riffmeister details why he works best with musical partners and how that's been successful in both Alice in Chains and his solo career, including new album I Want Blood.
This passionate builder designed a custom Strat/Tele pair, both adorned with hand-painted replicas of The Starry Night.
Okay, I plead guilty to having owned over 150 electric guitars in the past 60 years. So, for kicks, with my experience by way of Fender, Gibson, Ricky, Gretsch, PRS, Guild, Teisco, and others, I decided to attempt to make my own axes from scratch. I found that this endeavor was synergistic—much like envisioning, composing, performing, and recording a song. With my long-time San Diego techie, Val Fabela, doing the assembly, I started carefully designing, engineering, and procuring all of the components.
Our winning guitar builder, Edward Sarkis Balian.
The Vincent van Gogh Stratocaster, aka “Vinnie,” was the initial project. Starting with a Canadian alder body, an artist in Italy (who wishes to remain anonymous) applied the Starry Night painting to the front, sides, and back. The heavily flamed, roasted maple neck has the typical 21 frets with a 25.5" scale, and sports yellow pearl-dot inlays. After careful consideration of my playing styles, I went with a configuration using Fender ’57/’62 Stratocaster pickups. I used an upgraded, noiseless, 5-position Switchcraft assembly for the switching circuit. Fender locking tuners, a custom-fitted bone nut, and a Kluson K2PTG 2-point whammy system and brass bridge complete the low-action setup. Overall gold hardware completes the look. Vinnie’s fighting weight is 7.1 pounds.
This is what stars look like from further in space, at least as far as this special build is concerned.
I was so happy with this Strat that I decided it needed a brother, so I started on a Tele. Logically, I named the Tele “Theo,” after Vincent van Gogh’s younger brother. Again, with a Starry Night body painted by the same artist, I coupled a Canadian alder body with a lightly roasted, flamed-maple Stratocaster neck. (Hey, if it was good enough for Jimi to experiment with a Strat neck on a Tele body, why not try it?) And, as expected, my techie Val did a brilliantjob of joining the neck to the body.
The Van Gogh Tele, aka “Theo,” built to similar specs as the Strat and also featuring a lightly roasted, flamed-maple Strat neck.
For pickups, I went with Fender’s vintage-correct ’64 Tele set. As for a harness, the super-quality Hoagland Custom 4-position switching is unique, in that it gives a 15 percent boost and a very killer tone in position 4! Fender locking tuners, a custom-cut bone nut, and a Gotoh GTC201 brass bridge completes its setup. Gold hardware complements the overall look. Strangely enough (or perhaps hereditary?), the Tele matches his Strat brother’s weight exactly, at 7.1 pounds.
It's not in a museum, the the Theo guitar is certainly a work of art.
But how do they sound? Magnificent!Throw in my trusty Keeley compressor, Fulltone OCD, and Fender or Mesa/Boogie tube amps, and the van Gogh boys both easily equal or surpass my White Penguin, White Falcon, PRS Custom 22, Lucille 345 stereo, 335, SG TV, Les Paul Standard, Esquire, or Joan Jett.
I’m hoping the real van Gogh brothers would have been proud of these two magical, musical namesakes.
Jeff "Skunk" Baxter expands his acclaimed first-ever solo album, Speed of Heat, with a brand new Storytellers Edition, featuring brand-new commentary tracks.
For over five decades, audiences worldwide have marveled at Baxter’s inimitable and instantly recognizable guitar playing and generational songcraft. His output spans classic records as a founding member of Steely Dan and member of the Doobie Brothers in addition to hundreds of recordings with the likes of Donna Summer, Cher, Joni Mitchell, Rod Stewart, Dolly Parton, and many more. During 2022, he initially unveiled Speed of Heat, showcasing yet another side of his creative identity and introducing himself as a solo artist.
On the Storytellers Edition, his fascinating commentary pulls the curtain back on both the process and the message of the music. This version traces the journey to Speed of Heat and its core inspirations as shared directly by Baxter in the form of detailed anecdotes, candid stories, and insightful commentary on every track.
The 12-songalbum, co-produced by Baxter and CJ Vanston, is a riveting and rewarding musical experience that features a host of brilliantly crafted originals co-written by the guitarist and Vanston, as well as inspired versions of some of the great classics. Along the way, Baxter is joined by guest vocalists and songwriters Michael McDonald, Clint Black, Jonny Lang and Rick Livingstone. Baxter notably handled lead vocals on his rendition of Steely Dan’s “My Old School.” Other standouts include "Bad Move" co-written by Baxter, Clint Black, and CJ Vanston, and “My Place In The Sun”, sung by Michael McDonald and co-authored by McDonald, Baxter and Vanston.
As one of the most recorded guitarists of his generation, Baxter’s creative and versatile playing has been heard on some of the most iconic songs in music history, including “9 to 5” by Dolly Parton and “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer.
The stunningly diverse collection of material on Speed of Heat presents a 360-degree view of the uniquely gifted musician.
STREAM / SHARE / PURCHASE HERE.
Beauty and sweet sonority elevate a simple-to-use, streamlined acoustic and vocal amplifier.
An EQ curve that trades accuracy for warmth. Easy-to-learn, simple-to-use controls. It’s pretty!
Still exhibits some classic acoustic-amplification problems, like brash, unforgiving midrange if you’re not careful.
$1,199
Taylor Circa 74
taylorguitars.com
Save for a few notable (usually expensive) exceptions, acoustic amplifiers are rarely beautiful in a way that matches the intrinsic loveliness of an acoustic flattop. I’ve certainly seen companies try—usually by using brown-colored vinyl to convey … earthiness? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these amps sound great and even look okay. But the bar for aesthetics, in my admittedly snotty opinion, remains rather low. So, my hat’s off to Taylor for clearing that bar so decisively and with such style. The Circa 74 is, indeed, a pretty piece of work that’s forgiving to work with, ease to use, streamlined, and sharp.
Boxing Beyond Utility
Any discussion of trees or wood with Bob Taylor is a gas, and highly instructive. He loves the stuff and has dabbled before in amplifier designs that made wood an integral feature, rather than just trim. But the Circa 74 is more than just an aesthetic exercise. Because the Taylor gang started to think in a relatively unorthodox way about acoustic sound amplification—eschewing the notion that flat frequency response is the only path to attractive acoustic tone.
I completely get this. I kind of hate flat-response speakers. I hate nice monitors. We used to have a joke at a studio I frequented about a pair of monitors that often made us feel angry and agitated. Except that they really did. Flat sound can be flat-out exhausting and lame. What brings me happiness is listening to Lee “Scratch” Perry—loud—on a lazy Sunday on my secondhand ’70s Klipsch speakers. One kind of listening is like staring at a sun-dappled summer garden gone to riot with flowers. The other sometimes feels like a stale cheese sandwich delivered by robot.
The idea that live acoustic music—and all its best, earthy nuances—can be successfully communicated via a system that imparts its own color is naturally at odds with acoustic culture’s ethos of organic-ness, authenticity, and directness. But where does purity end and begin in an amplified acoustic signal? An undersaddle pickup isn’t made of wood. A PA with flat-response speakers didn’t grow in a forest. So why not build an amp with color—the kind of color that makes listening to music a pleasure and not a chore?
To some extent, that question became the design brief that drove the evolution of the Circa 74. Not coincidentally, the Circa 74 feels as effortless to use as a familiar old hi-fi. It has none of the little buttons for phase correction that make me anxious every time I see one. There’s two channels: one with an XLR/1/4" combo input, which serves as the vocal channel if you are a singer; another with a 1/4" input for your instrument. Each channel consists of just five controls—level, bass, middle, and treble EQ, and a reverb. An 11th chickenhead knob just beneath the jewel lamp governs the master output. That’s it, if you don’t include the Bluetooth pairing button and 1/8" jacks for auxiliary sound sources and headphones. Power, by the way, is rated at 150 watts. That pours forth through a 10" speaker.Pretty in Practice
I don’t want to get carried away with the experiential and aesthetic aspects of the Circa 74. It’s an amplifier with a job to do, after all. But I had fun setting it up—finding a visually harmonious place among a few old black-panel Fender amps and tweed cabinets, where it looked very much at home, and in many respects equally timeless.
Plugging in a vocal mic and getting a balance with my guitar happened in what felt like 60 seconds. Better still, the sound that came from the Circa 74, including an exceedingly croaky, flu-addled human voice, sounded natural and un-abrasive. The Circa 74 isn’t beyond needing an assist. Getting the most accurate picture of a J-45 with a dual-source pickup meant using both the treble and midrange in the lower third of their range. Anything brighter sounded brash. A darker, all-mahogany 00, however, preferred a scooped EQ profile with the treble well into the middle of its range. You still have to do the work of overcoming classic amplification problems like extra-present high mids and boxiness. But the fixes come fast, easily, and intuitively. The sound may not suggest listening to an audiophile copy of Abbey Road, as some discussions of the amp would lead you to expect. But there is a cohesiveness, particularly in the low midrange, that does give it the feel of something mixed, even produced, but still quite organic.
The Verdict
Taylor got one thing right: The aesthetic appeal of the Circa 74 has a way of compelling you to play and sing. Well, actually, they got a bunch of things right. The EQ is responsive and makes it easy to achieve a warm representation of your acoustic, no matter what its tone signature. It’s also genuinely attractive. It’s not perfectly accurate. Instead, it’s rich in low-mid resonance and responsive to treble-frequency tweaks—lending a glow not a million miles away from a soothing home stereo. I think that approach to acoustic amplification is as valid as the quest for transparency. I’m excited to see how that thinking evolves, and how Taylor responds to their discoveries.