How a historic 5-necked wonder came to life in Hamer’s shop.
Sometimes you get lucky, but it pays to be prepared to wait. With the news that Cheap Trick has been nominated for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame after 40 years of constant hard work, I imagine the band feels more dedicated than charmed. Let's hope that the Hall of Fame doesn't forget how truly unique Cheap Trick has always been.
I feel lucky to have been in the right place at the right time in 1981 when the phone rang and Rick Nielsen was on the other end of the line. By then, I'd gotten used to frequent brainstorming/request sessions with the Cheap Trick founding father, so I was not surprised when Nielsen broached the idea of a multi-neck instrument that would stop the show. Little did we know that this neck-heavy concept would be both a crowning achievement and an albatross around both our necks.
By the time anyone outside of the Midwest club circuit had heard of Cheap Trick, the Hamer guitar brand was well established in the U.S. and Europe. Bands such as Bad Company, Jethro Tull, Wishbone Ash, and many others were early endorsers, and shops around the world stocked our wares. Fellow guitar collectors Nielsen and bassist Tom Petersson were friends from the old days of prowling through pawnshops for vintage guitars on the cheap. The boys from Rockford, Illinois, were serious musicians and students of guitar history, but also great people with a decidedly serious sense of humor.
As Hamer resurrected the defunct and discarded Explorer shape in 1974, Nielsen grabbed one of the first and made it his signature axe. He recognized its lineage—the bastard son of a '59 Sunburst Les Paul and the rarely-if-ever-seen "lightning bolt" Explorer—and the guitar was perfect for his dual-citizenship personality. Despite its outsized appearance, we named it the Standard.
Before long, we'd constructed an entire fleet of personalized permutations for Nielsen, including a mandocello variation in 1977, the now-famous checkerboard-finished version in 1978, the "Coffee Table" graphic, and the early Floyd-Rose equipped "Yellowbird" in 1979. As the sight-gag graphics increased in number, the stature of Cheap Trick's fortune was growing even faster. The band had reached saturation on TV and radio by 1979, and they were dragging us right along for an epic ride. If there was any question about Cheap Trick's contribution to Hamer's exposure in the beginning, their massive success by the decade's end left no doubt.
When it was time to assemble the guitar, we realized what a behemoth it was.
It was while we were all riding pretty high that Nielsen inquired about the possibility of a multi-neck guitar to top all the others. According to Nielsen, he had originally envisioned a spinning guitar with six necks. But when ZZ Top appeared on TV with their spinning guitars, he changed his plan. He joked about wanting to outdo Rush, whose Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson both brandished double-necks simultaneously. In order to do this, we'd need at least five necks. In retrospect, the conversation was surprisingly short, and Nielsen left the fine details in my hands.
I walked back into the shop and flagged down the foreman, Steven Ward, to give him the overview. Because Nielsen wanted the guitar immediately, I decided to forgo the usual practice of creating drawings. We figured we'd use some existing bodies from the production rack so we could push the build ahead a few days. Steve and I laid out five Hamer Special body blanks right on the shop's enormous table-saw bed. We jockeyed the bodies around, stacked them on each other, and I marked out cut lines with a straightedge and pencil.
The challenge was to remove the parts of the bodies that had control routs, but still make it look like a usable guitar. Steve brought over a few raw necks so I could be sure of the headstock clearances. It was going to be tight. When we were sure things looked good, Steve got to work on the bandsaw. We then mocked up the assembly, I drew out the control locations, and sketched the swoopy blends right on the blanks between the necks so that Steve could finish up and bond them all together. The whole exercise took just a few hours.
Meanwhile, I went into the paint room to mix up a nice opaque-orange lacquer that would hide the multi-piece nature of the body and be bright enough to be seen from the last row in a stadium. After the necks were glued on, Steve drew the instrument's outline on brown craft paper to send to the case manufacturer before carrying the guitar into the spray booth.
When it came time to assemble the guitar, we realized what a behemoth it was. Each set of pickups and tuners added to its already hefty weight. After the last string was tuned, I took a few photos and put the guitar into the case to be shipped out immediately. I remember thinking that the guitar was pretty funny, but I had no idea how significant it would become.
My career has been dedicated to making instruments for serious musicians, regardless of how they choose to express themselves. I was proud of the way our team had produced the 5-neck guitar quickly for Nielsen, and how it became such an important part of Cheap Trick's show. Still, there was a stigma attached to it. Some people didn't get the joke. For awhile, I thought the 5-neck's cartoonish nature somehow overshadowed our artistry and the band's music—until it was displayed at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston in 2000. The now-famous orange guitar hung in a space where great works from the likes of Hockney, Hopper, Calder, and Monet are displayed. I guess the joke is on someone else now, and it was worth the wait. I hope Cheap Trick feels the same.
[Updated 10/8/21]
- Rig Rundown - Cheap Trick - Premier Guitar ›
- Cheap Trick: ... But Don't Give Yourself Away - Premier Guitar ›
- Rick Nielsen: His Checkered Past - Premier Guitar ›
The country music guitar slinger dishes on building chops in bluegrass, his mandolin and guitar heroes, and how he finds his tones.
Get 10% off your order at stewmac.com/dippedintone
Rhett and Zach are joined on this Dipped In Tone by country and bluegrass aficionado Andy Wood. Wood grew up in Knoxville with Appalachian bluegrass musics shaping his view of the world, and even though he’s celebrated for his guitar playing, he reveals that he didn’t pick up an electric until he was 17.
Mandolin was his home turf, where lightning-quick alternate picking was the norm rather than a shredding strategy—there’s no “nuclear arms race of chops” in bluegrass, Wood reveals. The real key to playing fast? Simply learning songs. Because of the different approaches, Wood shares how to spot an electric guitar player who started on bluegrass. Wondering where to start with American roots music? Wood has you covered there, too.
When he finally got around to guitar, Wood studied the playing of Nashville session weapons like Brent Mason alongside players like John Petrucci. Now, Wood throws an annual four-day retreat for guitar players called the Woodshed Guitar Experience, where you can learn from some of music’s greatest modern players.
Plus, learn about how Andy catches great electric tones in the studio, and stayed tuned for his new solo record, Charisma, which launches on August 9.
The Jason Richardson signature includes HT humbucker pickups, 24 stainless steel frets, and custom tremolo.
Inspired by over a decade of guitar string research, HT pickups deliver an ultra-high-output, powerful low-end response while retaining a distinctively clean, clear tone and definition at lower volume levels. The HT pickups in the latest Jason Richardson model have been voiced specifically for Jason with unparalleled clarity, power, and output. Additional features include 24 stainless steel frets, a custom Music Man tremolo, and innovative electronics, including a push/push volume knob for a 20+ dB gain boost and coil splitting via the push/push tone knob. The Jason Richardson Artist Series Cutlass HT is available now in two new finishes:
- Kokiri Forest—a mesmerizing translucent green finish. Crafted with an alder body, a buckeye burl top, and a roasted, figured maple neck with an ebony fretboard.
- Venetian Red —a striking translucent finish. Crafted with an alder body, a maple burl top, and a white maple neck with a striped ebony fretboard.
“These new pickups are a level up! More body and fullness, effortless pinch harmonics. I’m stoked to have more variations for everyone to choose from with my models now!” “The KokiriForest might be my new favorite color! Absolutely stunning to see in person! The Venetian Red also adds a more diverse option between the woods we haven’t done with my line before, incredibly stoked on both these guitars!” -Jason Richardson
The Jason Richardson Artist Series Cutlass HT in Venetian Red is available exclusively in the Ernie Ball Music Man Vault and is limited-to-25 units in a 6-string and limited-to-25 units in a 7-string. The Kokiri Forest colorway is available at your local Ernie Ball Music Man dealer.
For more information, please visit music-man.com
Ernie Ball Music Man: The Jason Richardson Cutlass HT Artist Series Guitar Collection
The Railroad House, in Marietta, Pennsylvania
One night, after a performance at an old inn in Pennsylvania, Ted saw a ghost—maybe. Oh, and happy early Halloween!
While this is our October issue, I know it’s a little early for Halloween, but why should Walmart and Target have all the fun? So, here’s a story about a haunted night on the road.
I used to play a chain of bars and inns in southeastern Pennsylvania, and the inns routinely put up the bands after the gig. A lot of those inns had a reputation for being haunted. One had photos of glowing orbs and whisps floating in mid-air taken in various rooms, and some were said to have spirits that played games with patrons, switching lights on and off, blowing in sleepers’ ears, playing tug of war with bedsheets, or the sound of long-gone steam locomotives whistling in the night. At the time, my band was a Mississippi-hill-country-inspired duo, called Scissormen, and several of my drummers experienced these things, but not me. I typically just slept as well as a chronic insomniac can.
Until one night at the Railroad House Inn in Marietta, Pennsylvania. During the gig, I noticed placards on the tabletops for regular meetings of the Pennsylvania Paranormal Association. After the show, I asked the owner, “Is this place haunted?” And he regaled me with ghost stories, noting that a couple staying in the room at the end of the second floor hall, where a gray lady dressed for an earlier century occasionally appeared, had a tug of war with this haint over their bed covers just the week before. Then he added, “I don’t even want to tell you what happened in your room.” Of course, I had to know. Turns out, over a hundred years ago a traveler had been brutally bludgeoned there for the contents of his purse.
Suddenly, I was less tired then I’d thought I was. So, my drumming compadre at the time, R.L. Hulsman, and I, thought it might be nice to sit on the second story back porch of this beautiful structure built in 1823 and enjoy the sweeping woodland view with a wee dram of Jameson—my other frequent traveling companion in those days. It was a warm but beautiful night, with the stars and moon filling the sky like poetry, and one hour quickly become another and another. R.L. and I could chew the fat for ages.
“I saw a gray figure wearing a bonnet, a Victorian skirt, and a frilled blouse go by. I was silent.”
Then, to my left, at the end of the porch, where the window to the haunted room stood uncurtained, I saw a gray figure wearing a bonnet, a Victorian skirt, and a frilled blouse go by. I was silent. Surely, John Jameson and his sons were playing tricks on me. But after about 20 minutes, Rob leaned in and said, gesturing toward that window, “Hey, did you see…?”
“Yes!“ I shouted back. And after a wee bit more liquid courage we decided to investigate.
The door to the allegedly haunted room was open, and we bumbled in, checking the closet, looking under the bed, tugging the bedcovers to see if we’d get a tug back, and checking for the cold spots that seem to be everywhere on paranormal-investigation TV shows. We sat on the bed for a while, but nuthin’. So, we left, and it was time for me to go back to my murder-scene room.
I changed into my PJs, put a glass of water on the bedside table, and spent some time reading a railroad magazine. (Yes, I am also a hardcore train nerd.) The breeze from the open window was delightful, and I soon fell asleep, waking up about 10 hours later, after one of the most wonderful rests I’ve ever had on the road. We lit out for the next gig, relaxed and ready to roll ’n’ rock, in that order.
If you expected a cataclysmic encounter with the souls of the dead, I’m sorry to disappoint. This doesn’t mean I discount others’ experiences, because I have seen and experienced some strange things, indeed. Maybe this spirit was kind, as well as playful, and gifted me the night’s sleep she knew I needed. And while I never played the Railroad House again, I do treasure this night and the memory of the sighting I either did or didn’t have—just another weird tale from decades spent on the road.
It’s a long journey from Kill ’Em All to 72 Seasons, but we made the trip and there’s a lot to talk about.
We cover our favorite tracks on every studio album, with the band’s best riffs and solos along the way. There’s plenty we can all agree on—Master of Puppets sits high on the hard-rock altar—and just us much that’s up to debate—is it time for a critical reevaluation of the Load/Reload double-header? And 13 years on, we’re still talking about Lulu.
