You might not be aware of all the precision that goes into building a fine 6-string’s neck, but you can certainly feel it.
I do not consider my first “real” guitar the one where I only made the body. In my mind, an electric guitar maker makes necks with a body attached—not the other way around. (In the acoustic world, the body is a physics converter from hand motion to sound, but that’s a different article for a different month.) To me, the neck is deeply important because it’s the first thing you feel on a guitar to know if you even want to plug it in. As we say at PRS, the neck should feel like “home,” or like an old shirt that’s broken in and is so comfortable you can barely tell it’s on.
A couple articles ago, I talked about things on a guitar you can’t see, but are of the utmost importance to the quality of the instrument. I’d now like to go deeper into some of those unseen details in guitar neck making that make a difference. This list is a small percentage of what’s really going on, so please take each one as an example of the craft.
Gluing in the frets. In my old repair shop, there were several instruments that kept returning after gigs because the frets had again become unlevel. If I took a very flat file and started to level the frets, the volume of the squeaking of the frets as I filed was really loud. I realized that these guitars had never had their frets glued in. It seemed clear that the fretshad to be glued into the slots, so when someone sweats into the instrument at a gig, the frets do not change height. I learned, after interviewing Ted McCarty, that the Gibson factory in Kalamazoo in the ’50s glued the frets in with fish glue. I tried it once. It stunk, and I never used it again. But gluing frets in has been important to me since day one. The glue makes a mold around the teeth of the fretwire to hold the frets in place. Another reason to glue the frets in is that on some ’60s Martins, for example, the frets would lift up on the treble side and the high-E string would get caught underneath the fret. So, glue the frets in or you’re going to have a long-term problem. By the way, using a water-based glue is like adding all the water back to the fretboard that you spent months drying out. I like super glue because it doesn’t have any water in it.
“Terry Kath, the great guitar player from Chicago, once told me, ‘Most guitars won’t play in tune down near the nut, and I search and search for guitars that will.’”
Fret positions. When I was young, there was an article in Guitar Player that described how to calculate fret positions by using the 12th root of two. The number is 1.0594631. And the reason I remember the number is because calculators didn’t have memory at the time, and I had to keep entering the number over and over again. One day, someone came into my shop and said, “I can’t play in tune with the keyboard player when I am playing lines near the nut.” I said, “That’s hard for me to believe, but I’ll check it.” Sure enough, the first few frets were out of tune with the open nut even though I had calculated the 1st frets’ positions perfectly. Turns out the nut needed to be moved so that it would play in tune down there (in the same way you have to adjust the intonation at the bridge end). Terry Kath, the great guitar player from Chicago, once told me, “Most guitars won’t play in tune down near the nut, and I search and search for guitars that will.” Getting the frets, the nut, and the bridge in the right positions is incredibly important. You’d be surprised that this is not always a given.
Neck shape. I was once at Dave’s Guitar Shop in La Crosse, Wisconsin, in his upstairs guitar museum, and got to compare early ’50s Tele, old Les Paul, and early Strat neck shapes. What was so surprising was how close the neck shapes were, including the thumb round-over (where the side dots are). I was later able to scan a lot of these necks and compare them with a computer, and, damn, they were really close. What was different was the radius of the fretboards. Some of them were more curved than others, and the old Gibsons’ radii were not what the internet says they should be. So, it’s pretty hard to understand from the specs alone how a neck is going to feel in your hands. In my mind, there’s a common shape that your hand feels comfortable with, and then all the extensions that make 7-string guitars, 12-strings, acoustic instruments, and modern Ibanez/flat-radius type instruments are other artforms altogether.
At PRS, we often think of guitars in terms of looks, feel, and sound. If it looks good, you’ll probably pick it up. If it feels good in your hands and rings for a long time when you strum it acoustically, you’ll probably plug it in. If it sounds good plugged in, there’s a good chance you’re hooked.
Pickups are more than magnets and coils. When you’re thinking about how they sound, consider all of the many elements that go into creating their tone.
Pickups, by definition, are magnetic microphones that lay under guitar strings. These devices are a fundamental piece of our musical instrument industry and, rightfully, get a lot of serious attention from guitarists/musicians. PRS has spent an inordinate amount of time, research, and engineering on these devices. They are complicated equations—a combination of magnetic materials, magnetic manufacturing/engineering methods, magnetic strength, physical dimensions and layout, coil winding for turning magnetic fields into electrical signals, coil-wire gauge and wire coating (type and thickness), wax potting to prevent howling and squealing (wax type and amount), electrostatic and magnetic hum protection in the form of pickup covers and cover material, cabling for attaching the pickup to the electronic controls of the instrument, pot values, and capacitor values and types.
The magic is in the interactive nature of all these factors … and then some. (This list is for passive pickups and does not include many aspects of active pickups.) Sometimes I see pickups boiled down to only a few factors, and I do not think that is a sophisticated enough view of these complicated and potentially beautiful-sounding devices.
As an example, it is thought that most players have an idea of the sound that humbucking pickups with alnico 4 magnets that are wound to 7.8k make. They’re historically associated with PAF humbuckers, but those qualities don’t fully explain what gives those pickups character. For example, if the pickup’s wire is standard-size 42 gauge, at 5,000 turns the pickup would have a resistance of about 7.5k. If you use 42-gauge wire that is undersized (which is a common inconsistency) and 4,800 turns, the pickup would still be around 7.5k. Because of the wire diameter and different number of turns, the pickups would sound different even though it’s the same magnet and same resistance. The wire matters; 7.5k is just the resistance of both coils. Just as wire diameter varies, alnico 4 purchased from four manufacturers sounds four different ways, so you have to compensate for that in other design areas as well.
If you think about the sound of a Strat, there is a “whistle note” (or you can think of it as a “ping note”) in every note you play. Think about playing on the neck pickup on a Strat; you can hear that whistle sound in every note. The pickup without a load is resonating at about 11k and at about 15 dB. Fifteen decibels is a lot. Imagine adding 15 dB of 11k (high treble) to your vocal at a gig! The potentiometers on a Strat, and those are 250k (which is a fairly low value for a volume and tone control), calm down how loud the whistle note is. When these single-coil pickups are built well, this whistle note can be very musical. Just think of Robbie Blunt playing “Big Log” on Robert Plant’s 1983 album The Principle of Moments. For us at PRS, getting the whistle note to be the right frequency and the right volume is very important. It is believed, for good reason, that an old PAF pickup can sound very much like a single-coil Strat pickup. That is because of the frequency and volume of the whistle note coming out of these vintage pickups.
“In the end, it’s really simple. Do you like the sound of the pickup? Will it do the job that you’re looking for the instrument to do?”
In the end, it’s really simple. Do you like the sound of the pickup? Will it do the job that you’re looking for the instrument to do? When David Grissom worked with us on our DGT pickups, he spent almost a year on them, and at the end of the process, he was adjusting the coil wire by 25 turns at a time until it was exactly where he wanted it. And that’s only the amount of turns. We also evaluated the magnetic type, strength, etc. I bring up all these parameters to give you an idea of how complicated it is to get all the specifications to dance well together. I like what’s going on pickup-wise at PRS and believe that our 2025 offering is gonna turn some heads. Normally, I don’t bring up what we do at PRS in these articles, but this time I think it’s worth mentioning, so stay tuned.
Consider all the types of pickups out there: humbuckers, covered humbuckers, P-90s, Strat single-coils, Tele single-coils, Gretsch Filter’Trons, Jazzmaster, P Bass, Jazz Bass, no-hum single-coils, and mini-humbuckers that make single-coil sounds. Within each one of these types, there can be scores of variations. How to choose? Simply try a pickup and see if you like it!
Paul Reed Smith believes “that it’s not about the country that an instrument is made in. It’s always been about the skill level of the guitar makers.” Here’s why.
For us, import guitars started when Carlos Santana asked, “Paul, can we make a PRS that’s much more affordable for all the students that talk to me about owning one of my guitars?” I said, “Sure. I’ll get you a prototype for your approval.” When we brought him the prototype, he was impressed, and his comment was, “This was made in America, right?” And I said, “No. This was made overseas.” The contract for his approval was on the table, and he leaned over and signed it as fast as he could. It was a good moment for him and my company because our integrities were on the line, and we had a product we thought was a real instrument.
I’ve always believed that it’s not about the country that an instrument is made in. It’s always been about the skill level of the guitar makers. When we first started traveling to overseas guitar-manufacturing facilities, we found that almost all their training over the decades had been to go fast, while our teaching about how to make instruments was about how to go well. Once they knew how to go well, they didn’t know how to slow down. And the guitars they produce are of the same caliber as what we make here.
Years ago, I visited Fujigen Gakki, which was one of the original manufacturers for Ibanez and overseas-built Fender instruments. They also made George Benson’s archtops. I was impressed. When I was a child, Japanese manufacturing was known for making cheap transistor radios. Now, instruments made in Japan have real cache. Not because the country they were made in changed, but because the guitar-making skill level has gotten so much higher. Fujigen at the time when I visited was an extraordinary guitar-making facility. PRS models could easily have been made there, and I knew it when I visited.
What I’ve been deeply concerned about is that we teach our overseas partners how we want instruments to be, using our techniques. So, as a definitive statement, the country a guitar is made in does not matter much. The skill and care of the instrument makers does matter. Let me give you a few historical examples. Stradivari, Guadagnini, and Guarneri violins are the most-valued, and were made in Italy. Some of the early overseas-built Stratocasters were made in the mountains in Japan near the Seiko watch factory, and they are now highly desirable. A huge percentage of high-end classical and flamenco guitars were made in Spain.
“Believe me, if I got fired and moved to Mexico, within eight months, I’d be making high-end guitars there.”
Jack Higginbotham, who is one of my partners at PRS, is teaching our Indonesian guitar-making partner, Cor-Tek Musical Instrument Company, how to make guitars our way, every day. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and I trust it. Over and over again, we’ve been told by Cor-Tek that our constant request is that we want them to do it right in terms of instrument making, while most of the other manufacturers’ requests are centered around how they can get finished instruments for less money. That just doesn’t make sense to me. These foreign instrument-makers take great pride in their work and their products, and, in my experience, want to do a great job. We were the first company to put our overseas manufacturer’s name on the back of our headstocks. We did it so the company would take pride in its work. Believe me, if I got fired and moved to Mexico, within eight months, I’d be making high-end guitars there.
So, if you’re looking for an instrument, you should evaluate it the same way, regardless of country of manufacture: How does it look, how does it feel in your hands, how does it sound acoustically, how does it sound electrically, and, most important, will it do the job you want it to do? A guitar is a tool to make music and should be evaluated as such no matter its country of origin. Very often, a country will have a reputation for being better at making some kinds of products than others, but that changes over time. As an example, the Swiss are better at making watches than the U.S. has ever been, but not grandfather clocks.
I hope this was helpful. By the way, I’ve seen some unplayable instruments made in this country. We call such products, regardless of origin, “guitar-shaped objects.” I’ve also played some real gems not made in the U.S. I guess this will start a few threads.
When shopping for an instrument, what you see isn't necessarily all you get. Paul Reed Smith offers a checklist of considerations, including the invisible ones, for guitar hunters.
Let me start with a story. I once had a 1969 Telecaster neck covered in polyester finish that was really thick. We stripped the finish off the neck, and the neck literally started to come apart. The skunk stripe in the back started to shrink and come loose. Basically, the neck was built with really wet wood, and it had been encased in polyester for decades—like a swimming pool..
This was not something that could be seen at the point of purchase. But at some point, that company wasn’t drying the wood, because my experience with instruments built around 1964 is that they didn’t have this problem. I’ve never seen a vintage Fender built before 1964 where the frets were sticking out the side of the neck because they hadn’t dried the fretboard well enough, and it shrank.
For the most part, there’s an extraordinary amount of trust when you’re buying an instrument. For example, customers trust that the frets are installed in the correct positions without checking each fret position with a tuner. This trust is mostly deserved, as most frets are generally installed in the right places. What’s sometimes not installed in the correct place is the nut. This controls how open chords play in tune down in the first position. I’m going to make a list of the things I believe you cansee when you buy a guitar, and the things you can’t. My hope is that it helps you make your next purchase with confidence.
Tuning pegs are among the easy-to-inspect items when shopping for a guitar. The peg at far left has clearly seen better days.
In general, here’s a list of what you can see:
- Tuning pegs and how they operate
- If the nut was cut well in terms of string height over the frets
- The neck shape as regarding how it is comfortable in your hand
- How the truss rod adjusts
- How well the instrument was inlaid in the fretboard
- How the side dots look
- How professional the binding is
- If the neck angle is generally acceptable
- If you like the shape and comfort of the body
- The beauty of the finish
- Overall aesthetic quality
- The sound of the pickups
- The electronic controllability
- Comfort of the bridge
- If the guitar intonates at the 12th fret
- How well is the guitar set up
The “skunk stripe” on this old Tele’s neck remains well-seated.
In general, here’s a list of what you can’t see:
- Are the woods wet under the finish
- How well are the woods dried?
- Will the fretboard shrink so the frets stick out of the neck over time?
- Are the tuning pegs deadening the tone?
- What’s the nut made of and how well it is glued on?
- Are the nut slots too narrow, creating tuning problems?
- Are the frets level?
- Is the truss rod deadening the neck?
- Do the pickups squeal at really high volume? (You may not know this until testing the guitar in a live setting.)
- How thick and how soft is the finish?
- Will the finish last a lifetime?
- Will all the glue joints hold up over time?
- How well does the instrument record?
- Will the frets move over time from reactions to things like sweat?
So, it comes down to trust. Did the guitar-making company tend to all the things that you can’t see when you buy the instrument?
“My goal, as a guitar maker, is that you can take the guitar out of the case and play a gig or a recording session without a repairman working on it first.”
The best way to tell if you want to buy a guitar is to play it! If an instrument is built really well, your experience of playing it will give you a good indication of how well the things you can’t see were done. If the instrument is really trebly and has no bass or midrange, maybe you should walk away from that purchase. If you strum the instrument and go, “Oh my god, that sounds great,” and then you plug it in, and it sounds beautiful—buy it. By the way, online shopping has made this process fairly painless as well, so you can play guitars in stores as well as shop as on the internet.
My goal, as a guitar maker, is that you can take the guitar out of the case and play a gig or a recording session without a repairman working on it first. That said, my personal guitars are often in our PTC (tech center) because of little tweaks that I want done. To tinker, in my mind, is normal. To have to pay for a setup on a brand-new guitar is not. Happy shopping.
What makes an instrument “worth it” depends not just on quality and craftsmanship, but on your perspective and intentions for it. And the market’s “permission,” too.
Let me start with a story. When I was a kid, you could buy a Teisco Del Rey black-green sunburst guitar in the Sears catalog for $100. I remember clearly thinking that when they made the guitar, they had to get all the details right.
They had to buy the tuning pegs and install them; cut a nut; cut fret slots and fret the guitar; maybe put a truss rod in; carve the neck; make a body; finish the guitar (including spraying a sunburst); install a bridge, pickups, pickguard, and electronics; put strings on it; set the guitar up, and … oh yeah … include a case. What I thought at the time was, “Why don’t you just do it all well?” It wouldn’t be that much harder to do, and the instrument would be something you could play a concert on.
I also found out some time in the late ’80s that the market gives you permission for a product. By my definition, “permission from the market” means that, in general, the product is selling and customers are quite pleased with their purchase. I remember the tradeshow where Audio-Technica released the M50 headphone, and almost immediately it was given permission by the market. It is now an industry standard. Another good example from that period was that the market gave permission to ADATs (which were early digital recorders) and then took it away.
So, the question about gear and prices is: Are you getting your money’s worth? In other words, can you use the instrument at rehearsal, at a gig, in a concert, in a recording studio? I used the Teisco Del Rey as an example because, in a way, they were cool. The market gave permission to sell them, but I’ve never seen one used at a gig, a recording session, or a concert. If an instrument is not worth the money that is being charged, eventually the market will say “no,” and the instruments will be heavily discounted. So, there is a self-adjusting “Is it worth it?” process in the marketplace.
Paul Reed Smith holds court at a clinic.
In my world, whether it’s worth the money is really important. We build instruments that sell all the way from a MAP (minimum advertised price) of $499 to a MAP of $15,000 (which is still 1/20th the price of some vintage guitars). For me, it’s highly important that someone pick up an instrument and play it before they decide if it is “worth it.” When I am at clinics, I very often let someone in the audience play my personal guitar and ask if they like the way it plays and sounds. One of the things I like about buying guitars on the internet is that there’s almost always a return policy if you don’t like the instrument. It’s a safety net that I think is good for the customers in our guitar world.
“There only has to be one thing wrong with a guitar for it to not be usable.”
Another thing I like about the internet is that if you average the blur of all the comments and reviews on a model of instrument, you can get the beginnings of an idea of whether it is worth it. For me, I’m always looking for the product that people missed either in price or that the market never gave permission to.
I recently bought an untouched 1958 vintage Les Paul Special. What was interesting about it was the weight and the neck shape were perfect, but some of the notes were buzzing badly on the neck. We leveled the frets and were kind of taken aback because the frets had never been leveled out of the factory. What we realized is that we never held a vintage Les Paul before that a repairman had not worked on. Was the instrument worth the money the day it was sold in the 1950s? Yes. Was the instrument worth the money as a vintage guitar today? Yes. I got a good deal on an untouched vintage guitar, and it taught me a lot.
I don’t buy vintage guitars as collector’s items. I buy them to understand what the people who made them were thinking the day they were made. You can’t talk to the builders anymore, but the instrument will tell you what they thought. Was the instrument ready for a recording session or a concert when sold? No. So if I had bought it to play, it may not have been worth it to me. In that regard, playing the instrument and not counting purely on reputation are just as important as knowing your “why.” There only has to be one thing wrong with a guitar for it to not be usable. Let’s just exaggerate and say the third fret was in the wrong place…. Big problem. This is kind of the way I look at it.