As one of life’s simple pleasures, playing acoustic guitar—especially outside—can be the perfect mental-health solution.
“Ask yourself whether you are happy and you cease to be so.”—John Stuart Mill
My heroes have always been musicians. After a lifetime of gigs and a decade of Rig Rundowns, I’ve been lucky enough to meet a lot of musicians that I have loved, emulated, followed, stalked. For the most part, they are nothing like the demigods I imagined. If you get an unguarded glimpse into who they are, often you will recognize a kinship, for we share this same fragile, nervous, socially awkward, somewhat insecure core. Distill it all down without smoke and mirrors, or smoke and beers, and you can see that like most of us, they were drawn to music from an early age because it gave them something they needed.
Maybe music is the words they can’t say, or the feelings they can’t express, or emotions they need to get out, or a chi-aligning meditation that centers them, or gives them the recognition they crave. Most teenagers like music, but for those who go on to become full-on musicians, it goes way beyond liking music, or even loving it—it’s a necessity. Perhaps, for some who don’t feel at home in the world, they retreat into music. I suspect that most of us spend all those hours alone with our instrument because it’s our therapy.
Research has found that musicians are three times more likely to experience anxiety or depression than the general public. And odds are, if you are reading this gear-nerd mag, you are probably a musician. So yes, I’m talking to you, gentle reader, because you (like me) are wired differently than the so-called “normals.”
Why am I bringing up this cheering fact? Because this is PG’s acoustic issue, and it just so happens that my personal mental-health panacea is playing acoustic guitar, preferably outside. Here’s why it works for me.
Most teenagers like music, but for those who go on to become full-on musicians, it goes way beyondliking music, or even loving it—it’s a necessity.
Often, I find myself lying in bed in the middle of the night, obsessively dwelling on problems that have no solution, my mind busily polishing every horrible detail. If I continue lying there, these negative thought loops will accompany me until the sun rises, and then through the following miserable day.
Playing electric guitar works, too, but not as well, because it’s too easy to get bogged down in gear with an electric. What I love about acoustic is the immediacy of it. It’s right there, the sound literally comes out of your fingers and the wood, and presses against your body to resonate. There are no cables to chase down, amps to fiddle with, pedals to think about; it’s just making music. Best of all, acoustics are highly portable, so you can take it outside. Provided the weather is not horrible, outside is where you want to be.
I suspect we are living in the least mental-health-friendly age ever, with the average American spending 7 hours per day staring at a screen that feeds us a constant diet of anger, desire, and fear. You are what you eat, and that dystopian diet has a cost. Combine that with the fact that for the roughly 2 million years that Homo genus has been walking the Earth, we’ve been grounded to earth the entire time until now, and that too has a cost. Research suggests that reconnection with the Earth’s natural electric charge stabilizes our physiology at the deepest levels; reduces inflammation, pain, and stress; improves blood flow, energy, and sleep; and generates greater well-being. If you happen to drive by my home at 4 a.m. and it’s not freezing outside, there’s a good chance you will see me sitting cross-legged on my lawn playing guitar alone in the dark.
My main acoustic is my Epiphone Lil Tex. The strings are so old on it, you may need a tetanus shot after playing it. Although Tex does not have a great tone, it feels like part of my body; we have seriously bonded from all the hours we’ve spent together outside, sitting with my toes in the grass and connecting to the universe. Twenty minutes outside playing that thing always makes me feel like what I imagine an advanced yogi must feel like after a deep meditation.
So, when this world is just too much, grab your acoustic and go outside and play with your toes in the grass or sand. Get lost in the music and I promise you will feel better. And if you or someone you know is struggling with mental health issues, there is help—samhsa.gov is a great resource.
Tuttle and Strings first recorded together on Strings’ 2017 release, Turmoil & Tinfoil.
Looking back on their latest releases, the two bluegrass phenoms and friends sit down with one another to talk musical heritage, stage fright, gear, and more.
In any music scene, it’s natural that talented contemporaries will find each other and form fast, harmonious fraternity. It’s no surprise, then, that Nashville-based bluegrass virtuosos Billy Strings and Molly Tuttle became close friends and collaborators as early as 2017—when they were both just 24—and, as is now somewhat common knowledge, were one-time roommates. Tuttle was first featured on Strings’ full-length release, Turmoil & Tinfoil, and a few years later, Strings guested on Tuttle’s Grammy-winning 2022 album, Crooked Tree, on the track “Dooley’s Farm,” while performing together often in the interim.
The pair have a lot in common, and we thought it would be a great idea to put them together to interview one another. “Billy and I, we both grew up playing with our dads,” Tuttle shares at the very beginning of the conversation. Tuttle made her first professional appearance as a recording artist at 13, when she and her father, Jack Tuttle, released The Old Apple Tree. Since her 2019 solo debut, When You’re Ready, Tuttle has evolved through both warm and peppery country tones and her original, adventurous approach to bluegrass, circling back to the genre’s traditional homey twang on Crooked Tree. A new album, City of Gold, is due July 21—and, inspired by her constant touring over the last few years, will offer 13 new tracks that capture the electric energy of the band's live shows.
More recently, Strings felt a sudden sense of urgency to record with his father, Terry Barber, and in November 2022, he put out Me/And/Dad, on which the two play 14 classic bluegrass tunes. As Tuttle comments with fondness below, Strings has a distinctive Doc Watson-esque attack, something that gets flavored by a death metal edge—heard in the every-so-often spectral chord and touch of grimness—thanks to his background in that scene. He recorded his latest single, “California Sober,” with Willie Nelson, and can be heard in duet with Tommy Emmanuel on the Australian guitarist’s new single, “Doc’s Guitar/Black Mountain Rag.”
Dooley's Farm (feat. Billy Strings)
While Strings grew up in Michigan and Tuttle the San Francisco Bay Area, much of their upbringing happened in parallel. Both musicians experienced turning-point moments in their teenage years, where they discovered that not only did their peers accept them for their bluegrass aptitude but celebrated them. For Strings, it happened when he excited his “hipster” friends with a performance of “Black Mountain Rag” at a house party, and for Tuttle, around the time Mumford & Sons was gaining popularity, her classmates discovered her banjo talents—and she became the “banjo girl.”
“Bluegrass is the music that can make me laugh or cry, that I really feel in my soul, and so my electric guitar started collecting dust.”—Billy Strings
Now deep into their discographies, the 30-year-old phenoms took a pause before (and amidst) tour dates to reconnect and discuss the many experiences they’ve shared in modern Americana music. The following conversation offers a view into that world, as well as unique insights into why the two get along so well as both musicians and people.
Molly Tuttle: Billy, you made that awesome new record with your dad. When you were growing up playing music with your dad, did you ever feel like there was a disconnect between the bluegrass side of what you did and other music you played with your peers, or listened to with your peers?
Billy Strings: Yeah, I remember it was probably around the time I was in middle school—I was a skateboarder, and I was playing video games and just hangin’ out with friends. I was getting too cool to be hanging out with my dad’s old friends playing bluegrass. I was like, “Man, I want to play music with people with common interests, not just sitting here talking about Gunsmoke or something.”
But I joined metal bands and got that out of my system, and eventually, I came back around full circle and just had this realization that bluegrass is what I cut my teeth on and what I was spoon-fed as a boy, and it’s really where my heart truly is. Bluegrass is the music that can make me laugh or cry, that I really feel in my soul, and so my electric guitar started collecting dust.
Tuttle: I really resonate with that, because I’ve gone through so many phases of trying to figure out who I am musically, and it took me longer to accept bluegrass as part of who I am. And it really is what makes me, me. But how do I tell my own story through bluegrass? ’Cause there are those two ends of the spectrum. I feel like I’ve gone the other way and been like, “Well, I’m not just a bluegrass musician, I play all this other stuff too.” And then I’ve also felt like, I want to play bluegrass and make it authentic to the genre. It kind of came down to songwriting, to me—like, how do I tell my story through this music and show how it came to be such a big part of my life?
The two bluegrass virtuosos both grew up learning how to play from their fathers, one in California (Tuttle), the other in Michigan (Strings).
Photo by Alysse Gafkjen
Strings: What are some of your earliest memories of playing with your dad? Do you have any big moments as a child that you were like, “This is what I’m doing—I’m a guitar player”?
Tuttle: I remember as a kid, I played a lot with my dad and we would play around the area where I grew up, in the Bay Area—play different local shows. One big moment for me, when I was like 12 or 13, was getting to go to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass in San Francisco and seeing Earl Scruggs, Hazel Dickens…. Me and my dad somehow finagled backstage passes and got to go to this afterparty, and Hazel was there. It was just so cool. Gillian Welch was there, and Dave Rawlings. He was like, my guitar hero. I remember going into the greenroom to put my stuff down and seeing him just sitting there with a guitar, and that blew my mind. Just seeing people like that up close was like, “Whoa, I could actually do this, and this world feels like where I belong. I could see myself doing this for a long time.” I realized I just wanted to play music as much as possible.
What was the Michigan music scene like for you growing up? Were there festivals or anything that was really important to you?
Strings: Well, I didn’t go to many festivals. At least, when I was young and growing up and first learning how to play, it was more just like me and my dad, my uncle Brad Lasko, and a couple buddies sittin’ around picking by the creek. But all these years later…. I watch other people on stage and I’m like, “How the fuck do they do that? How do they get up there and just play and sing?” I do that too, but I don’t think I do it like other people do. I was at this festival in Texas [South by Southwest], and I was nervous watching other performers! I was nervous for them, like, “Oh my gosh, she’s just up there singing and laying her heart out there! That is terrifying!”
Tuttle: [Laughs.]
Billy Strings' Gear
On String’s latest single, “California Sober,” he plays with the inimitable Willie Nelson.
Photo by Alysse Gafkjen
Guitars & Banjo
- 2017 Preston Thompson DBA Brazilian Rosewood Dreadnought, “Frankenstein”
- 2019 Preston Thompson DBA Brazilian Rosewood Dreadnought, “The Bride”
- 1944 Martin D-28
- Rickard Open-Back Banjo
Effects
- Grace Design BiX Preamp
- Strymon Lex Rotary
- Electro-Harmonix Micro Pog
- Electro-Harmonix Freeze
- Electro-Harmonix Pitch Fork
- Electro-Harmonix Intelligent Harmony Machine
- MXR Bass Envelope Filter
- Red Panda Raster
- Source Audio C4 Synth
- Source Audio Nemesis Delay
- Source Audio EQ2
- Boss DC-2W Waza Craft Dimension C
- Boss DD-8Boss SY-1
- NativeAudio Pretty Bird Woman
- Chase Bliss Wombtone MKII
- Chase Bliss Mood
- Chase Bliss CXM 1978
- DigiTech Polara
- Peterson StroboStomp HD Pedal Tuner
- Ernie Ball 40th Anniversary Volume Pedal
- Mission Engineering Expression Pedals
Strings & Picks
- D'Addario Medium, XS Coated Phosphor Bronze (.013–.056)
- Blue Chip TP48 Speed Bevel Right Hand
Strings: It’s definitely a weird thing. I still just do not understand how we can get up on stage and do whatever it is that we do.
Tuttle: Do you get any sort of stage fright ever? For me it comes and goes. If you think about it too much.… Sometimes I’m like, what if I don’t remember a single word to any of my songs? [Laughs.]
Strings: I just am always in a state of anxiety because of my career [laughs]. There’s all this pressure. But I’m usually fine once I get out there. It’s leading up to it. Even right now. I’ve been home for two or three weeks, and I’m leaving the day after tomorrow to go back on tour, and I’m scared that I don’t remember how to do it! I don’t know if I remember how to make a set list. I don’t know if I remember if I can still perform a show. But once you get back out there, you just throw yourself into the ring and it’s kind of like them guys that ride them bulls or something. You just kind of strap on, like, “Fuck it, here we go—8 seconds, hold on!”
Tuttle: [Laughs.] I feel like it’s this third thing, like your subconscious takes over and then you remember how to do it. But if you start thinking about it in advance…. We took some time off over the winter break and I had the same feeling, like, “Whoa, how did I do that before?” It really is kind of an extreme thing that we do: traveling all over the place, playing in front of a lot of people.
Strings: But shit, what the hell else are we going to do? Heavy lifting?
PG: Molly, I know Crooked Tree came out about a year ago now. For your earlier recordings, you said that you were trying to experiment musically, whereas this one was more traditional. Is that right?
Tuttle: Yeah, I kind of went back to the bluegrass sound that I grew up with. My first full record, When You’re Ready, I’d just gotten to Nashville. I was writing a bunch of songs where I didn’t know what category they fit into genre-wise. I had so much fun making that record; I really got to experiment with a different style. But then I think something happened in the pandemic lockdown. I got so nostalgic for that music I grew up with, and I missed my family; I missed the community aspect of bluegrass. I love this kind of music; it is folk music, in a way, where it gets passed down from generation to generation. It’s such an organic style of music that brings people together.
So, I started writing bluegrass songs for fun. I was like, “What I feel like I hear bluegrass missing these days, when I turn on the radio, is songs that sound original.” So, I wanted to write songs that could be sung in a bluegrass band, but also told my point-of-view and my story. Once I started, it was hard to stop, and I realized, “I have a full album of songs now, I might as well go into the studio this summer and try to knock out a record.”
Molly Tuttle's Gear
Tuttle has been performing professionally since the age of 13 but didn’t blow her bluegrass cover in school until her later teens.
Photo by Alysse Gafkjen
Guitars
- Prewar Guitar Company Brazilian Rosewood Dreadnought
Effects
- Grace Design FELiX
- Audio Sprockets ToneDexter Acoustic Instrument Preamp
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario Medium Coated Phosphor Bronze
- Dunlop JD Jazztone 207
Strings: And you won a Grammy for it. And I was so happy, because I was just like, she deserves this so much. Obviously, this always gets brought up, but we used to live in the same house—we used to be roommates. And I would always hear Molly practicing and shit, and I’d be like, “Fuck, man, I suck!” [Laughs.]
Tuttle: [Laughs.] I get that feeling when I hear you play, because I feel like we have such different styles. I’m like, “I could never do what Billy is doing.” The way you attack the guitar—I hear Doc Watson, but then there’s also your metal influence as well. I’m just in awe of your playing.
Strings: I’m just fakin’ it. I’m just wingin’ it the whole time, constantly. But are you still usin’ the same pick? Those little black things? What are those?
“Sometimes it may not look like I’m tensing up from someone watching me playing, but inside, I am kind of tense. But I think it is almost meditative, where you have to let go and let yourself play.”—Molly Tuttle
Tuttle: Dunlop Jazztone picks. I feel like I should switch. They’re not fancy picks, and sometimes I’ll try out other picks and people will be like, “That sounds really good.” [Laughs.] I’m just so used to them; I’ve used the same picks since I was 10 years old. They’re pretty heavy picks.
Strings: Well, that’s your sound, where you’re comfortable. I’m finding that that’s what it’s all about, for me anyways, is trying to make it comfortable to play. When I watch other people play, like you, or [Bryan] Sutton, it looks like almost kind of effortless in a way. There’s not all this tension, there’s not veins popping out [laughs]. I’m straining, but some people I see play and there’s just wonderful technique.
Tuttle: I have that too. Sometimes it may not look like I’m tensing up from someone watching me playing, but inside, I am kind of tense. And that’s when I feel like my playing doesn’t come through as well. But I think it is almost meditative, where you have to let go and let yourself play.
When Strings and Tuttle lived together in Nashville, they both felt intimidated when overhearing the other practicing.
Photo by Alysse Gafkjen
Strings: What kind of strings do you use?
Tuttle: I use D’Addario medium gauge [phosphor bronze]. I use the coated ones because my hands are very acidic.
Strings: Me too! I use the same ones! Shout-out to D’Addario .013–.056 medium gauge phosphor bronze, right? Gotta have that medium gauge, gotta have that coated, ’cause we sweat like crazy. And they don’t break! What guitar are you playing mostly on stage? Which one is the one that’s doin’ it for ya?
Tuttle: Right now, I’m using my Prewar Guitar Company. It’s a Brazilian rosewood D-28 style. I feel like the action and setup stay pretty even on tour, and I love the tone of it. That’s my current fave—what about you?
Strings: Still my [Preston] Thompson that I’ve been using forever. Brazilian, spruce-top dreadnought. I’ve been playing it for several years and that’s the guitar that I play on stage. It’s been through hell. It’s been smashed and it’s been put back together. But it always sounds the best plugged in. I use a K&K pickup and I run it through a [Grace Design BiX]. Also, I have a ’45 Martin that I just put a pickup in. I just wanted to have an old one that I can play on stage. But every time, I go back to Old Faithful. I started calling that guitar “Frankenstein” originally because I put all those different pickups in it, and the switch, and it’s got a microphone installed on the inside that goes to my in-ears. And I had them make me another one just like it, and that’s “The Bride.”
This isn’t guitar nerdy stuff, but I have this song, “Away from the Mire.” I wrote it when I got into a fight with my brother. Then, one night when I was on stage singin’ it, I realized that I wrote that song for myself; I was the one that needed to hear it. Do you have a song like that?
Tuttle: Definitely. I think the first therapeutic song that I remember recording of mine was “Good Enough,” that I recorded on my first ever EP. It’s about accepting yourself. I think I was struggling at the time with anxiety, and just getting started in my career and not knowing where things were going. I was trying to help myself stay in the moment. And I feel like that’s still a theme that I still write about. It means different things to me throughout my life.
“I think our duty is just to bring a little joy to people’s day. And sometimes they can give it back to us by accepting our audible diaries that we pour into our songs.”—Billy Strings
Strings: Well, just keep doing the work, because it’s beautiful stuff and we all need it! I think our duty is just to bring a little joy to people’s day. And sometimes they can give it back to us by accepting our audible diaries that we pour into our songs. We’re lucky to be able to do what we do, and I’m stoked watching you and your band out there kicking ass. It’s just fuckin’ awesome.
Tuttle: Likewise! I just love how you’re bringing this music to the masses, really educating people too about where it came from and your heroes and why it’s so important to you.
Strings: I guess we just gotta keep our sticks on the ice and keep truckin’. ’Cause I think we’re both doing good, and if we just keep our heads down and keep playing guitar, I think we’re going to be alright.YouTube It
It doesn’t take a trained eye to appreciate the wild shredding energy of Billy Strings and Molly Tuttle, seen in this live performance of Strings’ “Billy in the Lowground.”
Originally salvaged from a clearance sale in Hong Kong in ’96, this ’50s foto flame Tele has gone through a series of mods over the past few decades.
Name: Steve Kellett
Hometown: Petaling Jaya, Malaysia
Guitar: Made-in-Japsn Japan Telecaster
Here’s the tale of my Fender Made-in-Japan Telecaster: I bought this guitar in 1996 in Hong Kong from the Tom Lee Music Annual Warehouse Clearance Sale. I didn’t hear about the sale until the last day, so by the time I rocked up to the rented factory unit in the depths of Mong Kok, where they were holding the sale, there were only two guitars left: a wrecked, cheap acoustic and a made-in-Japan export model foto flame ’50s Telecaster.
As you can see from Photo 2, the guitar originally had a cherry sunburst finish on the body, but as it dated from ’94 and was one of the first-run foto flames, it had a plain maple V-shaped neck and maple fretboard with vintage-sized frets.
Originally, it had the low-end export electronics: bar-magnet pickups and dime-sized pots. I played it like this for two or three years, and then I got the itch to upgrade the pickups. So, I found a Seymour Duncan Jerry Donahue bridge pickup and a ’52 Fender reissue neck pickup, which I fitted.
Shortly after that, the tone pot disintegrated, so I bought a set of U.S. CTS pots and fitted those. This involved reaming out the holes in the control plate to accommodate the slightly larger pot shafts. To do this, I used a round file and elbow grease. About this time, I also acquired a set of brass bridge saddles to replace the original steel ones. The Telecaster Discussion Page Reissue online guitar forum has a lot to answer for.
Fast forward to about 2010, and the foto flame did what foto flame does: it started to crack. As you can see in Photo 2, it got pretty bad. I tried to address it using superglue, but that just made matters worse.
Photo 2
A couple of months ago, I had just had a local luthier do some repair work on a late ’60s Antoria Soundmaster. When he’d completed that, I asked if he could take the Tele and use veneer to properly achieve the effect that the foto flame had originally achieved. Well, he couldn’t find any decent figured maple veneer locally, but instead we selected some figured movingui and a tobacco sunburst finish base. Photo 1 shows the final result.
While he was at it, he also replaced the neck pickup cover with an open-topped cover exposing the polepieces, and a 4-way switch, giving series and parallel options for the pickup combination. We figured that the original white pickguard wouldn’t look that great with the new finish, so I picked up both black and faux tortoise-shell guards from Musiclily, and after the refinish, we figured that the black guard looked the best. The finished guitar can be seen in Photo 1. What can I say? It is like having a new guitar.
Send your guitar story to submissions@premierguitar.com.
The author’s main squeeze: a 2005 Kopp K-35 prototype.
Sure, variety is supposed to be the spice of life, but is it distracting you from your favorite instruments?
As the luthier and manager of a high-end guitar shop, I get to experience many fine acoustic instruments, in a variety of ways. Whether I’m selecting tonewoods from my stash for a custom build, introducing a customer to their next Collings or Huss & Dalton, or repairing a beloved ’70s Martin that has been played around a hundred campfires, there is always something going on.
As a player, though, I happen to be in a healthy long-term guitar relationship (or two), and I’m actually not looking for gear to buy. Don’t get me wrong, there are always things that capture my imagination: particularly rare or fascinating instruments, historical makes and models that I’m studying, a few potential investments to be scouted…. But the fact of the matter is that the acoustics that I currently own are more than pulling their weight.
For this column, and against the tenets of my chosen trade of MI retail, I’ve decided that I’d like to encourage PG readers to find similar bliss, be it with a single instrument or with many. If you are trying to find a way to stop chasing gear and find time to make more music (the thing that most of us are in it for), or if you just want to make more satisfying purchase decisions, here are a few ideas for you to meditate on:
1. Pick favorites. Most of us feel a desire to have a variety of instruments in different shapes, sizes, and tonewood combinations. While this keeps stores like mine in business (thank you!), we all know that guitar fanatics just want a rational justification to keep the hunt going. Whether we’re convincing our spouses or ourselves, having something different than what we already have just makes sense, right?
“Customers will call to say, ‘I can’t tell you how many (insert model or brand names here) that I’ve had over the years; I’ve never been able to find one that works for me. Tell me about the one you’re selling,’ to which I have to say, ‘Why, though?’”
The truth is that many players truly sound and feel best when playing a particular body size or combination of woods, and that ongoing quest for variety can be a major distraction. Using your ears and your instincts, you should aspire to find the brand, wood combo, or body size that you feel most hopelessly devoted to, and see if you can’t explore every last musical experience with it.
2. Stop the insanity! I won’t repeat the old “definition of insanity” platitude here, but it comes up a surprising amount in the course of my work. Customers will call to say, “I can’t tell you how many (insert model or brand names here) that I’ve had over the years; I’ve never been able to find one that works for me. Tell me about the one you’re selling,” to which I have to say, “Why, though?”
One thing that has improved dramatically in the last couple decades in the guitar industry is consistency. Some players hold onto the notion that there are mostly dogs and only a few good ones out there, but that’s more a vestige of the past. Time to look at the common denominator (hint, it’s over there in the mirror) and realize that if you’ve bought that same model four times in the last five years, you’re not going to get a different result next time.
3. Value your time (unplug and take that trip). Many might be embarrassed to add up the hours they spend on researching a purchase, from going down YouTube rabbit holes to scanning Reverb and eBay to perusing countless hot takes on forums. Due diligence isn’t a bad thing, but being separated from that potential next guitar by a glowing blue screen (or worse, a set of tinny headphones or the dreaded phone speaker) is never going to tell you if that instrument is going to satisfy when it’s in your hands, playing your music. On top of that, add the time spent waiting on the instrument to ship, the torturous acclimation period after the box has arrived, and then the possibility that a guitar that you heard on the internet might not feel or sound the way you wanted it to once it’s in your hands.
If you’re searching for a long-term tool for musical inspiration, consider taking the trip to a great shop that has a compelling variety, or is in a location with attractions that might help win over a potential travel partner.
4. The last step is acceptance. I consider the tips above to be reasonable, but music making isn’t always about “reasonable.” It’s about passion, emotion, inspiration, analysis, physicality, community—reason barely makes the cut! If your guitar pursuits and purchases bring you joy, especially if you’re still finding enough time to play, then that’s a great place to be. But if the restlessness of Guitar Acquisition Syndrome is causing you stress or eating into your practice schedule, consider slowing your roll, taking stock, and reflecting on how you got here. Some introspection usually puts us in a better frame of mind. Find time to be with instruments, not just looking at them online. Those will be hours that you’ll be proud to add up!
Ted’s D25C has lived a long and creative life, and has the scars to prove it.
How a used Guild D25C became the keys to the cosmos—and a better life in music.
I should probably name my acoustic guitar. After all, my dog Dolly has a name, and while she’s an old pup, I’ve known that guitar much longer. And like Dolly, that Guild D25C I got in the mid-’90s has given me many gifts.
I bought the guitar after borrowing it from a friend’s music store to play some acoustic radio gigs. I’d always felt awkward on acoustic before, but this ’80s Guild was an immediate joy to play, with a very electric-like, thin-profiled neck and a surprisingly even and ringing tone hampered by just a bit of boominess via its dreadnought body. When the radio gigs were over, I paid $400 for it.
I installed a pickup and then beat the hell out of the guitar, playing some acoustic shows, but mostly letting the instrument’s comfort and playability take me down a rabbit hole from which I’ve never fully emerged. You see, at the same time as I got my D25C, I began chasing the blues of North Mississippi Hill Country. And after logging many trips to be at the feet of R.L. Burnside, Jessie Mae Hemphill, Junior Kimbrough, and others, the pull was irresistible. Burnside’s style was especially magnetic, and I found myself drawn to fingerpicking, slide, and open tunings.
The summer shortly after I got the guitar, I began spending a few days a week at the beach with my Guild, slowly developing my own Burnside-inspired idiosyncratic fingerstyle approach—really delving into slide and playing in open D and G. It was slow going, and the Guild received no mercy. Whether I was on the fretboard or in the water, the guitar spent six hours or more of every beach day unprotected from the baking sun and hot sand.
We all encounter instruments that play a special role in our lives. They inspire us to become better songwriters and players, and maybe even better people.
I had gigs and a day job, so my conversion from rock plectrist to blues yeti was slow. It took three summers of beachy Guild abuse until I felt like I could play the style in public. But along the way I did learn some of the intricacies of primal slide and how to control dynamics and be fleet and nuanced with my fingers. I emerged a different player, and the Guild became a different guitar. After all that time in the sun, it felt and sounded lighter and airier, with a brighter, more balanced palette. Despite all the warnings about exposing guitars to punishing elements, it had gotten better, and the instrument continues to reward me with its comfort and tone.
My Guild taught me that a guitar doesn’t have to be a special instrument to be a special instrument. It’s a humble model that many players I know dismiss in favor of pricier or more boutique 6-strings, but because of when it arrived in my life, it became the keys to the kingdom of my playing style—a kind of blind cave fish approach built on archaic blues and my instinct for psychedelia and improvisation.
We probably all have an instrument like this—an unfancy guitar that nonetheless helped us grow and become ourselves. For me, the benefit of learning a new approach to the instrument on acoustic and then transferring it to the faster, more sonically flexible world of electric guitar was immensely gratifying. But I still love that Guild for itself, and it still yields songs, compositional ideas, and an endless supply of good vibes. And when I’m cranking a Les Paul through a pair of amps in stereo, I can feel the raw DNA of the Guild in what I’m playing.
Instruments that play a special role in our lives inspire us to become better songwriters and players. Maybe even better people, because in formulating a personal approach as a guitarist, we establish a kind of equilibrium that gives us confidence to play and perform, and confidence in our own place in the world.
Sure, guitars are wood and wires—mostly—but when we work to bond with them and play them for all they’re worth, they can be as rewarding, faithful, and inspiring as a good dog. Or a good friend. They take us on journeys within ourselves and in the real world. They create opportunities for learning, adventure, and joy. And who doesn’t want more joy?
Hopefully you have at least one guitar you love as much as I love my battered Guild D25C. And if you don’t, maybe you’ll adopt that instrument soon. Because every guitar can be a door to the cosmos. All you need to do is open it and, to paraphrase Timothy Leary, tune up and turn on!