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!
- Factory Tour: Fender Acoustic Custom Shop • Guild Guitars • Ovation ›
- Guild M-140E Review ›
- Dreadnought Acoustic Roundup: Guild, Martin, Recording King, Seagull, and Blueridge ›
- Guild Polara Kim Thayil Signature Demo | First Look - Premier Guitar ›
- Guild D-50 Standard Acoustic Guitar Review ›
- Is Your Acoustic Guitar Ready for the Big Melt? ›
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Guest picker Billy Doyle of Man/Woman/Chainsaw joins reader Eddie Carter and PGstaff in musing on the joys of playing music.
A: I think the most rewarding aspect of music is the rush and chaos of playing live shows with my friends. I really love the tension—not knowing what’ll go wrong each night and what’ll come together nicely.
Billy’s recent fascination has been with The Last Waltz, both film and accompanying album.
Obsession: This summer I discovered the Band’s The Last Waltz concert film and album and fell into a mini obsession with it. Seeing some of the most stellar songwriters of their era share a stage is really special, not to mention how comfortable as a unit the Band is and how high the standard of musicianship is—Levon Helm singing his heart out while playing the drums is particularly wicked. Joni Mitchell’s performance of “Coyote” and Van Morrison’s rendition of “Caravan” are both particularly special, as I grew up listening to those artists. It’s a great insight to be able to learn these songs exactly how they played them.
Eddie Carter - Reader of the Month
A: The most rewarding aspect of playing for me is when I connect with the audience. The main purpose of playing music live, in my opinion, has always been to take the audience away from everyday life for a while. Life smacks a person down a lot, whether it’s a bad day at work or school, bills you can’t keep up with, bad news, etc. When a person goes to hear live music, they want to forget that and have some fun and unwind. When I see the audience smile, sing along, or dance, I know I’ve managed to help with that. That’s why I enjoy doing cover songs and just mix in an original here or there. It’s also why I try to do a variety of music from several decades.
A recent go-to for Eddie has been Duane Betts’ Wild & Precious Life.
Obsession: I guess my current obsession is looping. I don’t plan to get into looping as deep as Phil Keaggy, or use drums and keyboards. I do enjoy stacking parts on guitar and even playing mandolin over a guitar loop, though. It helps with making a song sound more like the recorded version. I also use a looper, a Boss RC-500, to store and make backing tracks for a few songs.
Jon Levy - Publisher
For Jon, Pretenders’ self-titled never gets old.
A: Playing music has enriched my life in so many ways, it’s hard to pick the most important one. Is it the headrush from writing and recording? The thrill of live gigs? The champagne-soaked limousine rides with supermodels and celebrity fans? (Just kidding about that last one.) To be honest, it’s the deep friendship and goofy camaraderie with my bandmates. My entire social life is based on music, and it makes the backaches, hangovers, and tinnitus totally worth it.
Nashville-based singer-songwriter Stephen Wilson Jr. is in Jon’s current rotation.
Obsession: Not looking at my hands when I’m playing. It forces me to concentrate on what I’m hearing and feeling—stuff that’s actually musical, rather than visual. I still ogle the fretboard a bunch, but I’m consciously trying to rely on my other senses as much as possible.
Brett Petrusek - Director of Advertising
Brett’s a big fan of Iron Maiden’s Killers, but also loves Miles Davis’ timeless Kind of Blue.
A: All of it. There are so many seasons and the change of the seasons is what makes it so great. Hitting the perfect riff to inspire a new song. Recording: layering guitars and vocals, hearing the tracks build up and turn into a mix (I really love this part). Creating a body of work. Being on stage with your band and feeling the roar of your guitar through the PA. Connecting with an audience, or better yet, knowing a single person connected with your music in a meaningful way. Watching my team develop and get better at the game. I feel fortunate just to be able to do it and to be able to share the experience with my group, Fuzzrd. The single most important thing? It’s unconditionally always there for me—and it alway starts with a guitar.
Irish hard-rocker Gary Moore’s Victims of the Future is a favorite of Brett’s.
Obsession: Taking a page from the legendary Gary Moore’s playbook: “So try and leave some big moments of silence in your solos—at least twice as long as what comes to you instinctively. After a while, you get in the habit of hearing those spaces, and the waiting comes naturally. And if you’ve got a good tone, you’ll create this anticipation where the audience can’t wait for the next note.”
How the Irish guitar virtuoso got a unique tone with a factory-stock Strat.
Hello and welcome back to Mod Garage. In this column, we’ll take a closer look at the very unique sound of the famous Rory Gallagher Stratocaster and discuss why it sounded so outstandingly good.
Unless you are living in a cave, you should know who Rory Gallagher was and will recognize his beaten-up Fender Stratocaster, which is a symbol of pure rock ’n’ roll. The story goes that Rory bought this used 1961 sunburst Stratocaster in 1963 for £100 in Cork, Ireland, in a shop named Crowley’s Music Store. Allegedly, this was the first Stratocaster ever to reach Ireland. The guitar’s previous owner ordered a red Stratocaster from the U.S., but a sunburst came instead. After using the guitar for around half a year, the red one arrived. The sunburst was exchanged and put on sale, and Gallagher soon found it. True or not, the story is simply priceless.
When Rory bought this Strat, it was absolutely factory stock, which was typical for this time. It stayed that way for a long time and became a piece of musical history in the hands of Rory. Nearly all of the sunburst lacquer was naturally removed over the years by Gallagher’s acidic sweat, so today the guitar is almost completely stripped down to the bare wood, giving it its iconic look.
The first mods done to this guitar happened around the mid-70s, when two of the pickups were damaged and had to be replaced. Later on, some other parts like the pickguard and pickup covers had to be replaced, and in his later career he did start to use different pickups. The standard 3-way pickup-selector switch was replaced with a more modern 5-way switch, and the controls were rewired for master volume and master tone with the middle tone pot disconnected.
What was the secret behind Rory’s unmistakable Stratocaster tone, which he had from the start? First and foremost, and without any doubts, you all know the saying: Tone comes from the fingers! When such outstanding playing chops meet a great instrument, the result is marvelous.
Having said that … Rory’s pickups did play a large role in his sound. The standard Stratocaster pickups Fender used at the time had staggered magnets with beveled edges. There is complex physics behind it, but in basic terms, these pickups sound fatter, sweeter, and with more overtones. The beveled edges greatly influence the magnetic field, which causes them to sound so different. This has to do with the pickup’s unique aperture or “magnetic window.” These were hand-beveled edges, and it was generally assumed that this was done to disguise the rough and uneven surface left by the sand casting. But this can’t be the reason because doing such handiwork takes a lot of time and care to get right, and Leo Fender wasn’t known for spending time on such unnecessary things in his building processes. (Later, Fender stopped beveling and the sound of the pickups changed because of this.)
In 2016, Seymour Duncan explained the tone of beveled pickups to Guitar.com: “The bevel causes the magnetic field to shoot out a little around the bevel area, but it results in a tapering of the field above that point. So, if you could, imagine the magnetic field shaped like the flame of a candle or a teardrop.” That’s an excellent metaphor that hits the nail on the head.
“Depending on the employee working the sanding machine, the edges are more or less beveled from pickup to pickup—one of the reasons why vintage Strats sound so different from guitar to guitar.”
But why did Fender originally do hand beveling and why did they stop later on? Were his choices based on tone? I don’t think so. I think the answer must be seen in the historical context of the time.
The alnico 5 material used for the magnets was brand-new and very expensive at that time. It was also very porous, and many magnets crumbled while using a hammer to drive them into the pickup, which was the usual procedure in the Fender factory. So, Fender started hand beveling the magnets on one side, which minimized the risk of destroying the magnet during the hammering process. It was an accident that this created such great tone. Depending on the employee working the sanding machine, the edges are more or less beveled from pickup to pickup—one of the reasons why vintage Strats sound so different from guitar to guitar.
Here you can see the normal, non-beveled magnets of a Stratocaster pickup:
Photo courtesy of Leosounds (https://leosounds.de)
And here is a faithful recreation of the beveled magnets in Gallagher’s Stratocaster:
Photo courtesy of Leosounds (https://leosounds.de)
Gallagher’s pickup set has a very pronounced bevel. The Fender worker who produced these certainly also created some more sets like this.
The influence of the bevel on a pickup’s tone is huge. To give a better idea, here are some magnetic visualizations that my dear friend Bernd C. Meiser from the German BSM company made for me. Bernd sadly died on July 30, 2024, after fighting against cancer for two years. It won’t get loud anymore without him.
Here you can see the common magnetic spread-out of a non-beveled Strat pickup:
Drawing courtesy Singlecoil (https://singlecoil.com) in memory of Bernd C. Meiser
And here is the same with a beveled Strat pickup:
Drawing courtesy Singlecoil (https://singlecoil.com) in memory of Bernd C. Meiser
You can clearly see the difference of the magnetic spread-out and the much wider aperture these beveled magnets provide, causing the different tone.
So where is the mod for this column? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not possible to change the magnets on a standard Stratocaster pickup without destroying the pickup. And there is no way to retroactively put a bevel on the magnets of your pickup with the magnets installed. The only way to convert your Strat to beveled pickups is to install a new pickup set with beveled magnets. Fender ’57/’62 pickups feature beveled edges, as do many offerings from other pickup companies.
Next time, we will have a look at the mid-boost and scoop mod from Dan Torres, so stay tuned!
Until then ... keep on modding!
Saxophonist Charlie “Bird” Parker’s challenging version of a 12-bar blues is one of his most enduring contributions. Learn how to navigate these tricky changes by combining bebop and blues.
Chops: Intermediate
Theory: Intermediate
Lesson Overview:
• Use IIm–V7 progressions to add interest to a blues progression.
• Combine the blues scale with Mixolydian and Dorian to create swinging phrases.
• Increase your rhythmic awareness by using triplets and syncopation.
Click here to download a printable PDF of this lesson's notation.
A big part of the bebop spirit was learning how to navigate through seemingly unrelated chords at speedy tempos. Saxophonist Charlie “Bird” Parker was a pioneer in the bebop movement and he combined his love of the burgeoning style with a deep appreciation for the blues. It’s easy to look at bebop in 2017 and think of it as a complicated and overly intellectual genre, but adding in a blues sensibility can make the changes a bit more approachable.
When looking at a traditional I–IV–V blues, there’s not all that much harmonic information to outline, so bop players like Parker would add chord substitutions. His composition “Blues for Alice” is an example of what’s become known as “Bird Blues.” The changes Parker used on this tune of become so accepted that other composers have written contrafacts—a different melody written on the same changes.
To fully digest these changes, it makes sense to examine the progression in small chunks and see how it relates to the traditional blues form. First, let’s look at the “Bird” changes below. (Remember, in jazz circles a triangle means a major 7 chord and a dash means minor 7 chord.)
When looking at a traditional 12-bar blues in F, the first four measures are usually an F7 (I) moving to a Bb7 (IV) in measure 5. In this version, Parker works backwards from the IV chord with a series of IIm-V7 moves that descend in whole-steps. Measures 4 and 3 are “major” IIm–V7s, but the second measure uses a “minor” version with a half-diminished chord for the IIm. Finally, Parker changed the chord in the first measure from a dominant 7 to a major 7 to place us squarely in the key of F. (It also helps with voice-leading across the first four measures.)
YouTube It
Saxophonist Charlie “Bird” Parker was the figurehead of the bebop era. Listen to his relaxed, swinging take on “Blues for Alice,” which is one of his most popular compositions.
Ex. 1 demonstrates one way to navigate the first four measures. Let’s break that down a bit. I stick entirely within the F major scale (F–G–A–Bb–C–D–E) for the first measure. Easy enough. In the second measure, for the sake of simplicity, I am just implying A7 through both chords. The first two beats outline A7 (A–C#–E–G) and the remaining notes are plucked from the A Super Locrian scale (A–Bb–C–Db–Eb–F–G).
Click here for Ex. 1
I’m using a similar concept in Ex. 2, working with the F major scale in the first measure and thinking A7 in the second. I’m using the D melodic minor scale (D–E–F–G–A–B–C#) over the third measure while targeting the 3 of Cm7 (Eb) on the downbeat of the fourth measure. To create an altered sound over the F7b9, I use a Gbdim7 arpeggio (Gb–A–C–Eb) to nail the b9 (Gb).
Click here for Ex. 2
This next example (Ex. 3) takes cues from great piano players so it requires some quick position shifting. The first shift happens in the first measure, where we move from 5th position up to 8th on the “and” of beat 2. In the second measure, we imply an A7b9 sound using a Bbdim7 (Bb–C–E–G) arpeggio that touches on the #9 (C) and b9 (Bb).
In the second and third measures of this example, we’re basically using the same concept. Because D Dorian (D–E–F–G–A–B–C) and G Mixolydian (G–A–B–C–D–E–F) contain the same notes, we’re simply adding some chromatic passing tones that help the chord tones line up on strong beats. Move the whole concept down a whole-step (to C Dorian/F Mixolydian) for the next measure.
Click here for Ex. 3
The next section of a blues in F might look something like: Bb7–Bb7–F7–F7. Or, if you think of a traditional jazz-blues progression, it might be Bb7–Bdim7–F7–D7. Looking ahead, Parker wanted to target the Gm7 in measure 9. What’s the best way to lead into that chord? Simply add a IIm–V before it. Parker used backcycling to create a series of descending IIm-V7 progressions that connect the Bb7 in measure 5 to the Gm7 in measure 9. Rather ingenious, huh?
While these chords are easy enough to play with basic chord forms, it’s much trickier to solo through them in an authentic way.
Ex. 4 uses the Bb Mixolydian scale (Bb–C–D–Eb–F–G–Ab) over the Bb7 before moving to Eb Mixolydian (Eb–F–G–Ab–Bb–C–Db) for Bm7–Eb7. In the third measure, we move to A minor pentatonic (A–C–D–E–G) before coasting through an Abm7 arpeggio (Ab–Cb–Eb–Gb) for the last measure.
Click here for Ex. 4
The next lick (Ex. 5) demonstrates how you can use simple melodies to navigate this chord progression. The first measure is a simple lick based on the Bb7 chord, then we create a melody just using the F major scale—it’s all about landing on the Gm7 chord at the right time.
Click here for Ex. 5
Our final example over this section (Ex. 6) is just as loose with the chords, but makes sure to hit them as they land. The first measure uses the Bb major pentatonic scale (Bb–C–D–F–G) before using some outside notes that resolve to the root of the Am7 chord. At this point you should be seeing that a big part of the bebop genre is based on rhythm. The mixture of triplets and heavy syncopation is an essential part of the sound.
Click here for Ex. 6
The final section of a blues in F usually goes: C7–Bb7–F7–C7, but that’s too basic for beboppers. In Bird blues, we use a two-measure IIm-V7 progression before increasing the harmonic rhythm with F7–D7–Gm7–C7. In Roman numerals, this translates to I7–VI7–IIm7–V7.
I find the best way to play over this section is to remember you’re playing a blues, so some blues scale ideas might not be a bad idea, as shown in Ex. 7. We’ve even included some slight bends!
Click here for Ex. 7
This final example (Ex. 8) feels like another melody rather than something clever. Remember, we’re playing music, and often the best music is the type that your audience can sing along to. So don’t be afraid to hold off and play something melodic.
Click here for Ex. 8
Lastly, here’s a short backing track to help you practice these ideas, and then come up with some of your own. Keep listening and copying and before long you’ll be soaring like Bird!