Taking some time to explore a bit deeper than the winding.
When you hear a bassist describing his or her gear, the type of strings they use is rarely mentioned. This is mainly because roundwounds have become the norm for the vast majority of us. However, there is plenty more to strings than how they are wound.
Strings are under our fingers all the time and have an immense effect on our tone, so it's interesting that they rarely get much attention. Sure, for some players, the search for the right strings is a life-long pursuit, but many others simply stay with whatever they started out with. But again, there's more to talk about beyond flatwound, halfwound, roundwound, and taperwound.
All electric strings have a core, which is what shoulders all the tension. Unlike the two or three highest strings on a guitar, the bass guitar's counterparts always have an outer winding. This winding raises the mass-per-length to lower their natural frequency, while keeping stiffness and dampening low. And this gets even more important the lower we go in frequency.
It isn't generally a bad thing, since it doesn't make us sound like synths, but things can get really ugly for thicker strings once we move up the neck.
Another factor for a string's tone and feel is the ratio of core and winding. (The core is usually 33 to 66 percent of the outer diameter.) Additionally, there are several different cross-sections of cores—round or hexagonal. And we haven't even talked materials yet! There's nickel, stainless-steel, gold, bronze, either solid or plated versions, and, finally, there's the influence of the different coatings introduced in the last two decades to consider.
There are myriad reviews and guides on how to choose strings that try to describe the differences in tone and feel with more or less depth and detail. In my opinion, any good one should be a long one!
Let's not forget about an often-neglected issue: intonation. There have been several attempts to improve intonation with compensated nuts (Earvana, Buzz Feiten, etc.) and True Temperament fretting, but there are also differences in intonation for different string constructions.
Fig. 1 — As seen in this cross-section of a "lumped" strings bridge area, the smaller the inner-winding diameter, the denser the package and mass.
Photo courtesy of Kemp Strings
The "bass sound" has changed massively over recent decades by getting way treblier and present for cutting through in the mix. (Check out Michael Thurber's excellent video on YouTube entitled "Story of the Bass.") The result is a much higher portion of upper harmonics, and the way these intonate and their inharmonicities can't be adjusted like the intonation of the natural frequency. An ideal string or oscillator would have its first upper harmonic at exactly twice the frequency, and so on. Unfortunately, the strings' finite stiffness makes them behave less than ideally, where the second harmonic is too high. It's even worse for higher partials. It isn't generally a bad thing, since it doesn't make us sound like synths, but things can get really ugly for thicker strings when we move up the neck.
One can fight inharmonicity of an open bass string by increasing scale length. That's the reason there's such a huge difference in the perception of the low end between a small piano and a concert grand, with the shorter of the two showing a much higher pitch glide. Put simply: Adding winding and mass to the string at the bridge area (Photo 1) means raising the specific weight-per-length when moving up the neck. This mass fights the raising stiffness when fretting up the neck, finally reducing the shift of upper harmonics. This construction, coined "lumped" strings (Fig. 1), has been researched specifically for bass by Dr. Jonathan Kemp at the University of St Andrews in the U.K.
For those who would like to dig a bit deeper into the subject, you can find Dr. Kemp's peer-reviewed paper at kempstrings.com, but please be prepared to absorb some serious math and physics! That said, it's refreshing and encouraging to see something going much further and deeper than the same old "and the vibration travels through the bridge and resonates with the wood."
[Updated 7/26/2021]
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We chat with Molly about Sister Rosetta’s “immediately impressive” playing, which blends jazz, gospel, chromaticism, and blues into an early rock ‘n’ roll style that was not only way ahead of its time but was also truly rockin’.
In the early ’60s, some of the British guitarists who would shape the direction of our instrument for decades to come all found themselves at a concert by Sister Rosetta Tharpe. What they heard from Tharpe and what made her performances so special—her sound, her energy—must have resonated. Back at home in the U.S., she was a captivating presence, wowing audiences going back to her early days in church through performing the first stadium rock ‘n’ roll concert—which was also one of her weddings—and beyond. Her guitar playing was incendiary, energetic, and a force to be reckoned with.
On this episode of 100 Guitarists, we’re joined by guitarist Molly Miller, who in addition to being a fantastic guitarist, educator, bandleader, and performing with Jason Mraz, is a bit of a Sister Rosetta scholar. We chat with Molly about Sister Rosetta’s “immediately impressive” playing, which blends jazz, gospel, chromaticism, and blues into an early rock ‘n’ roll style that was not only way ahead of its time but was also truly rockin’.
OM-balance and comfort suited for the fingerstylist on a budget.
Comfortably, agreeably playable. Balanced dimensions. Nice fretwork.
Lighter mahogany top looks less classically mahogany-like. Some compressed sounds in heavy-strumming settings.
$299
Guild OM-320
guildguitars.com
The Premier Guitar crew is spoiled when it comes to hanging out with nice flattops. But while those too-brief encounters with acoustics we can’t afford teach us a lot about the flattop at its most refined, they also underscore a disconnect between the cost and the acoustic guitar’s status as a true folk instrument of the people.
Guild’s OM-320, from the company’s new 300 series, sells for $299, which isn’t much more than a good-quality, entry-level flattop cost in the 1980s. Strikingly, there’s a lot of competition in this price class. Even so, the OM-320’s nice build quality and pretty tone in fingerpicking applications stand out in a very crowded price segment.
The United Guild of Deal-Seeking Pickers
Though Guild, in all its incarnations, has always made accessible guitars a part of their offerings, a $300 instrument with the company’s logo might give pause to players familiar with guitars from their various U.S. factories. Quality can be hit-or-miss on any guitar from any brand at the entry level. What’s more, a lot of guitars with different brand names come from just a few OEM facilities—lending a certain sameness on top of irregular quality. But the recent acquisition of Guild by Yamaha, who has a reputation for solid entry-level instruments, inspires confidence as far as these concerns go.
So, too, does the integrity of the OM-320 at the nuts-and-bolts level. I couldn’t find any overt lapses in quality control. And in many spots where that really counts, like the fretwork, the execution is especially good. Little details like the Guild logo overlay (rather than a simple decal) add a soupçon of luxury. So do the Guild-branded, Grover Sta-Tite-style butterbean tuners, which look stylish and feel sensitive and accurate.
“The neck inhabits a comfortable zone between C and D shapes that’s super agreeable and, at least in my case, a nice antidote for hand fatigue.”
Though the body is built from layered mahogany on the back and sides and a solid mahogany top, the latter is much lighter and amber- or honey-toned than the rich cocoa-hued mahogany tops you’d associate with a vintage Guild M-20, or, for that matter, theM-120 from the company’s contemporary Westerly line. As a result, you see a little more contrast in the grain and a little dimpling in certain sections of the wood. The lighter wood isn’t unattractive, it just looks less trad, if you’re chasing Nick Drake’s Bryter Layter style. If that’s important, you should adjust the “design/build” score appropriately.
Sit and Stay Awhile
Barring being covered in porcupine spines, almost any OM or 000 will qualify as a pure-comfort title finalist. It’s not too thick, too wide, nor too petite—a size and profile that also pays unique, civilized sonic dividends. Here, the OM body is complimented by a neck that feels like an especially natural match. I don’t have a bunch of inexpensive OMs on hand to compare, and there isn’t anything wildly unique about the shape, but the neck profile feels very proportionate to the body. It also, depending on your own sense of such things, inhabits a comfortable zone between C and D shapes that’s super agreeable and, at least in my case, a nice antidote for hand fatigue. The neck is not classically OM-like in terms of nut width. The M-320’s nut measures 1 13/16", which is typical of a 000, rather than the 1 3/4" associated with OMs. The extra width, of course, would make the guitar more appealing to some fingerstylists that need the space. At no point, however, did I feel anything close to cramped; it’s just very comfortable.
The combination of layered back and sides, OM/000 dimensions, and mahogany mean the OM-320 feels and sounds less than super-widescreen in terms of tone spectrum and power. Nevertheless, it sounds balanced and pretty—particularly with a droning, dropped 6th string and other more-elastic tunings where the guitar can exercise the lower extremes of its voice. Tuning to standard has the effect of highlighting midrange emphasis, which can get boxy and render the 3rd and 4th strings a bit less potent and present. That said, it’s still balanced and almost never collapses into a distorted harmonic blur. The bottom end maintains an appealing growl and, as long as you use a gentler picking approach, you can use the highest four strings in very dynamic ways. Using a capo emphasizes other cool, high-mid-focused voices in the guitar that coexist well with most strumming approaches.
The Verdict
Inexpensive guitars that feel great can make up for a lot of shortcomings in tone. But the OM-320’s deficiencies in the latter regard are few, and some perceived limitations, like midrange emphasis, are intrinsic to guitars with OM dimensions. So, while forceful strumming is not the OM-320’s strength, the comfortable playability might just lead you to those places anyway. And if you compensate accordingly with touch dynamics, you can conjure many sweetly chiming tones that might sound extra sweet given the bargain price
PG's demo master quickly (and easily) drops in an H-S-S setup into his 1994 40th Anniversary Stratocaster that needed help. Find out what happens when gets his first taste of active pickups.
EMG SL20 Steve Lukather Signature Pre-wired Pickguard with 3 Pickups - Black Pearl
SL20 Steve Lukather Pre-wired PG - Blk PearlBarry Little’s onstage rig.
How you want to sound and what makes you happy are both highly subjective. When it comes to packing and playing gear for shows, let those considerations be your guide.
I was recently corresponding with Barry Little, aPG reader from Indiana, Pennsylvania, about “the One”—that special guitar that lets us play, and even feel, better when it’s in our hands. We got talking about the gear we bring to gigs, and Barry sent me the photo that appears with this column.
“I’m mostly old school and take quite the amp rig, and usually two or three Strats or ‘super strats,’ plus some Teles,” he wrote. “Some are in different tunings.” Barry also has a rack, built with famed guitar-rig designer Bob Bradshaw’s help, that he says holds a Bad Cat preamp bearing serial number one. For his ’70s/’80s rock outfit and his country band, this covers the waterfront.
I love Barry’s rig; it looks awesome! So … why do I feel guilty about the substantial amount of gear I take to gigs where my five-piece band will be playing a concert-length set? Onstage, my setup looks fantastic—at least to me. It’s the gear I’ve always wanted. But packed inside cases and ready to load into the Honda Odyssey with a rooftop carrier that all five of us and our instruments travel in for away dates … it seems excessive. Currently, I take three guitars: my customized reissue Fender Esquire “Dollycaster,” my Zuzu one-off Green Monster, and a Supro Conquistador, plus a 1-string electric diddley bow made from a crawfish-boiling pot. They start every show in open G octave (D–G–D–G–D–G), open D, standard tuning, and A, respectively. There’s also a Sony GLXD6+ wireless, and a pedalboard with 13 effects stomps, a tuner, and two power boxes, along with a Brown Box. That board is the launchpad for the stereo signal that runs into two Carr 1x12 combos: a Vincent and a Telstar. In addition, there’s a big black bag with spare cables, fuses, capos, strings, extension cords, microphones, straps, duct tape, and just about anything else you might need. After all that, miraculously, there is also room for my bandmates–another guitarist, bass, drums, and theremin—and their gear, plus light luggage.
I admit that’s a lot, but it used to be more—at least by the pound. In the late ’90s and early 2000s, I often played through two Marshall 4x12s with a Mesa/Boogie Duel Rectifier Trem-O-Verb on one and a ’72 Marshall Super Lead atop the other. And before that, it was the Marshall with a 4x12 plus a ’66 Fender Twin Reverb. I kept a waist back-support belt in the van, but spent a decent chunk of that era living with regular back pain.
“I admit that’s a lot, but it used to be more—at least by the pound.”
Where am I going with this? Besides a desire for you to absolve me of my guilt, I feel like all of this gear is … um … necessary? It’s the recipe for the sound I want to hear, for the versatility of the material, and for me to play from my happiest place—onstage in the middle of a glorious stereo field of my own making. It’s not really about gear and it’s not about somebody else’s definition of practicality. It’s about joy. Ideally, you should be able to bring whatever gives you joy to a gig. Period.
Sure, naysayers will yap that after a guitar, a cable, and an amp, nothing else is necessary. And on a certain misguided, intolerant level, they are right. We can all play a show with just the basics, but I, for one, don’t want to—unless maybe it’s a solo gig. Neither did Jimi Hendrix. There is a universe of tones out there waiting to be discovered and explored. There are improvisational paths that only a pedalboard can suggest. (Of course, if you’re playing a small stage, traveling in too tight quarters, or claiming turf that impinges on bandmates, those considerations apply. “Be kind” is a good rule of thumb for life, including band life.)
Remember, the naysayers are not in your bones, and onlyyour bones know what you need and want. Don’t let the voices—even in your own head—nag you. (I, too, must take this advice to heart.) Bring whatever you want to bring to gigs, as long as you can get it there. Do it guiltlessly. Have fun. And listen to your bones.