As an electric hollowbody, the unusual Virginian appears at first to be an acoustic model, but has minimal acoustic projection.
This Virginian is one of the rarest, and oddest. Appearing at first glance to be an amplified (possibly hideously modified) flattop acoustic, it is actually a purpose-built electric. Introduced in 1965, it was one of Jim Burns’ final designs for his original company. This early 1965 example came over to me from the original owner’s family in the U.K., who taped the case shut, slapped on a label, and gave it to Parcelforce, hopefully with a nice “Cheerio!” Amazingly, it arrived in one piece and remains in excellent condition, except for an added string retainer on the headstock.
The Virginian evolved from an earlier Burns semi-acoustic, the GB65. That model used the same laminated mahogany body and flamed sycamore top, with eccentric twin f-holes and a trapeze tailpiece. Compared to the GB65, Burns substituted on the Virginian a decorative, round central soundhole—but the primary difference between the two designs is the patented Rezo-Tube bridge, developed as the vibrato system for the 1964 Hank Marvin solidbody. Each string terminates in an individual tube, hence the name, inside a cavity in the body isolated completely from the wood. Burns claimed that it “gives the string tone a new degree of resonance and sostenuto” (i.e., sustain).
The Virginian is built with Burns’ patented Rezo-Tube bridge, designed for the ’64 Hank Marvin solidbody, where each string terminates in an individual tube inside a cavity in the body.
Photos by George Aslaender
Burns was so pleased with the Rezo-Tube that the Virginian was designed around it, but here, the concept seems a bit counterintuitive. A large solid block under the bridge has a central opening; six strings in individual metal tubes hang down therein. The bridge is spring-suspended on a knife-edge pivot but not intended to move, having no vibrato arm. To top it off, decorative rosewood pieces are mounted either side, mimicking a flattop bridge. Despite a (mostly) hollow body, the Virginian has minimal acoustic sound, thanks to solid blocking around the Rezo-Tube. The natural-finished, bolt-on maple neck has a 24 3/4"-scale rosewood fretboard and the “scroll” headstock—also designed for Hank Marvin. As with most Burns designs, adjustment for the geared truss rod is hidden under the neck plate.
“The Virginian usually inspires a ‘huh?’ reaction—or at least a raised eyebrow—from any player that sees it.”
The Virginian featured Jim Burns’ newest 1965 Bar-O-Matic pickups. The wiring rig sports a major innovation Burns called the “density” knob. The knob blends in the lower coil of a stacked humbucker in the neck position, an original and early use of this concept. The simple-looking controls often baffle a first-time user; the forward knob is volume, with density in the middle and tone at the rear, which also works only on the neck pickup. There are effectively two tone controls for the neck pickup, none for the bridge, and a 3-way switch.
The guitar’s scroll headstock, seen here, was also designed for Marvin.
Photos by George Aslaender
Jim Burns seemed especially proud of this design, the initial ad touting, “Controlled Resonance technology … incorporates the Burns Rezo-Tube bridge/tailpiece developed for the Shadows.” The 1965 U.K. list price was £134, in the same range as many imported Fenders and Gibsons. Despite Burns’ gung ho, the Virginian seems a bit like a guitar in search of a mission. The name implies country Western, but the publicity highlighted “true jazz guitar tone! A real thick, full sound that explodes without ‘woolly’ trimmings with the unique density control.” It’s unlikely much serious jazz got played on Virginians, but one did appear with Lenny Breau in the 1960s. It also was played by a few 1965 U.K. chart acts: Unit 4 + 2, Pinkerton’s Assorted Colours, and even the Troggs.
The Virginian became Baldwin’s Model 550, listed at the rather non-bargain price of $495 (plus a $55 case). They reasoned that if you’re going to put in a vibrato, you should give folks an arm to shake—so later Virginians do have a whammy bar, along with other small changes. Baldwin had a Nashville operation tied in with Sho-Bud, so a few country stars, including a young Johnny Paycheck, got one. Baldwin Virginians were sold from 1966–’69, but first-generation 1965 Burns examples are rare—even in England. The Virginian usually inspires a “huh?” reaction—or at least a raised eyebrow—from any player that sees it. There’s something endearingly goofy about its hybrid appearance, but this is a solid player, handling well with a bright, clear sound for a full-size hollowbody. Jim Burns re-engineered the concept in the ’70s into the Steer model (a favorite of Billy Bragg), but the original Virginian remains unique, and has never been reissued.
This rare 1941 Kay Carson Robison guitar bears traces of multiple repairs done over time.
Today, we’re familiar with the names Gene Autry and Roy Rogers, but back then, any cowboy fan would have also known Carson Robison. Robison was born in 1890 to a champion-fiddler father and a dance-caller mother. In the 1920s, he was one of the first cowboy singers to become a radio performer, famous for his virtuosic whistling ability. He wrote over 300 songs in his career, including his 1948 hit, “Life Gets Tee-Jus, Don’t It,” featured in episode 123 of the original Muppet Show, which is how I first heard of him.
The Montgomery Ward catalog offered Carson Robison-model guitars from 1930 through 1941. The 6-string changed a little every couple of years, ultimately ending up with eight different variations. The subject of this month’s column is the rare eighth variation, also called Model 964, made only for a short time in the fall of 1941 by the Kay Musical Instrument Company. According to the original catalog, it has a “Selected Spruce Top” and mahogany back and sides, and the top is solid wood as far as we can tell. The back and sides, however, are made of a few disparate pieces. The body on this guitar was shrunk from the previous grand auditorium size (41 1/4 x 16 1/4) to a smaller grand concert size (39 1/2 x 14), and it has a distinctive oval-shaped soundhole. Like the other Carson Robison guitars, it has his signature painted on the body, below the bridge.
Also known as Model 964, this version of the Carson Robison is the eighth variation on the original.
Photo by Madison Thorn
This particular example has had a number of repairs over the years. The tuners are newer, and it’s had a bone saddle installed. Its amber sunburst finish has some overspray, likely covering a past repair. It’s also had a refret and a neck reset, and it’s playing better than ever. The neck has a chunky V-shape, which is typical for these early-20th century guitars that were made before truss rods. It’s got a bunch of dings, finish-checking, and evidence of past repairs, which I think adds character. I like to imagine this guitar had a dynamic early life, being played and loved by some rowdy siblings.
While researching this model, we at Fanny’s House of Music in Nashville came across a clipping of the 1941 Montgomery Ward catalog this guitar was listed in and found something curious cut off on the left side of the page. Featured right next to the Carson Robison guitar was a 6-string bearing the name of Louise Massey. Could it be that not all singing cowboys were boys? I found myself in the throes of a deep Google search when our old friend Frank Hall came to the rescue.
“I like to imagine this guitar had a dynamic early life, being played and loved by some rowdy siblings.”
Frank Hall was a fixture here in Nashville. He was a member of the Serendipity Singers, a folk group that performed at Woodstock. He was also a lifelong guitar collector and one of the world’s preeminent “catalog guitar” experts. He came into Fanny’s often to tell us stories about these old guitars, and when we were lucky, he’d play us a song. Frank passed away in early 2021, but he left us with a wealth of knowledge, and importantly, for our purposes today, a tome called Cowboy Guitars by Steve Evans and Ron Middlebrook.
Time and wear have given this guitar a character as craggy as the old West.
Photo by Madison Thorn
The owners of Fanny’s, Pamela Cole and Leigh Maples, plopped it open on our front desk to page 106, where I read the history of Louise Massey and the Kay-made Montgomery Ward guitar that bears her name. Louise was known for her hit song “My Adobe Hacienda,” a beautiful tune calling back to the real heroes of cowboy culture, Mexican vaqueros. Her signature guitar was only made for a few short months in the fall of 1941, at the same time as our Carson Robison. As far as we know, it is the only cowboy guitar to feature a woman artist. Not even the Queen of the West, Dale Evans, had that honor!
This wonderful Kay acoustic took us on quite a journey. We love the stories in these old guitars, and we especially love seeing them write new stories with new owners. Sometimes all it takes is a neck set, and a little flattop like this one is all ready to inspire a new generation. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go scour eBay for a Louise Massey guitar.
The Accent vibrato, slash soundhole, and distinctive pickguard and control set make for an iconic and distinctive design.
These new electric guitars were slow sellers at first, but they continued to increase in popularity as the 1950s progressed. By early 1954, German guitar maker Roger Rossmeisl was hired as head of the woodshop, overseeing design and production. He concentrated on solidbody guitars for the first few years, giving them a unique European look that set Rickenbackers apart from other brands.
By 1958, Rossmeisl began work on a new group of semi-hollow electric guitars called the Capri Series (after Hall’s family cat). The series consisted of 12 models: the small-bodied three-quarter-sized 310, 315, 320, and 325; the standard full-sized 330, 335, 340, and 345; and the deluxe full-sized 360, 365, 370, and 375. Models ending in zero had no vibrato, while those ending in the number five did. The bodies for these guitars started as a solid block of wood, which was then hollowed out from the underside, with a separate back later attached. The vibrato-equipped instruments originally had Kauffman Vib-Rolas, but those were switched in 1960 to the more efficient Accent vibrato developed by Paul Butts, who also developed the Gibson Maestro Vibrola. By 1961, Rossmeisl had modified the original 2"-thick design to the 1 1/2" thickness that remains standard for the 330 series today.
A potent tone combination: a 1963 Rickenbacker 365 with one of the company’s early 1960s B9A amps.
The 1963 guitar featured this month has the characteristics common to deluxe-series 365 models before they were reshaped again in 1964. These include a bound maple neck, a gloss-finished rosewood fretboard with large triangle-shaped inlays, two “toaster”-style single-coil pickups, a maple body with a bound top and back, a slash soundhole, and an Accent vibrato tailpiece.
This Fireglo finished guitar has a gold Lucite truss rod cover, with a matching two-layer pickguard (white plastic was used after 1963). Four diamond-shaped “oven” knobs control the volume and tone of each pickup, while the smaller blend control knob subtly balances the sound from each pickup when the switch is in the middle position. The original list price was $309.50. The current value for one in excellent, all-original condition is $5,000.
“The bodies for these guitars started as a solid block of wood, which was then hollowed out from the underside, with a separate back later attached.”
The amp behind the guitar is an early 1960s Rickenbacker B9A. It is equipped with tremolo, and pushes 6 watts through a 12" speaker. The current value for the amp is $700.
Sources for this article include Rickenbacker Electric 12-String: The Story of the Guitars, the Music, and the Great Players, by Tony Bacon; The History of Rickenbacker Guitars, by Richard R. Smith; The Rickenbacker Book: A Complete History of Rickenbacker Electric Guitars, by Tony Bacon and Paul Day; and Rickenbacker Guitars: Out of the Frying Pan into the Fireglo, by Martin Kelly and Paul Kelly.
With its block inlays, neck binding, adjustable bridge, and basic control set, this Ibanez 2662 looks ready to rock.
But in Ibanez’s Custom Series, you’d see some designs you can't place so easily, including the 2662. An example of this rarity is now listed for sale on Reverb by the Austria-based Gregor Svend, and serves as the focus of this month’s column.
The 2662’s tulip-shaped body has some similarities to other Ibanez 26XX-series guitars, like the Artist Series 2680s and 2681s built for the Grateful Dead’s Bob Weir, yet the horns are nearly flattened. (At first, it appeared to us to be an original design, but thanks to a hawk-eyed reader, we now know the 2662 is based on the Greco RW-700, a Ron Wood Signature released the year prior.)
“By the 1976 catalog, the 2662 had disappeared completely. What a short, strange trip it must’ve been.”
In Ibanez’ 1975 Custom Series leaflet, where the 2662 made its first appearance, only its bare specs are shared: 41.5" total length, 17" x 13.75" body, Super-Humbucking pickups, a rosewood fretboard on a set neck, pearloid inlays, a brown sunburst finish, and gold hardware, including Smooth Tuners tuning pegs, a chunky bridge, and that wonderfully unique tailpiece. The control layout features two volume knobs, two tones, and a 3-way pickup selector switch.
But unlike those aforementioned Weir models, the 2662 did not catch on—perhaps because Ibanez didn’t really give it a chance. In the 1975 catalog, there is no price listed for the 2662. (Other 26XX guitars then available ranged between $391 and $631, with the 2662 likely landing on the higher end.) And by the 1976 catalog, the 2662 had disappeared completely. What a short, strange trip it must’ve been.
The pickup selector location could be easy to access or in the way, depending on a player’s right-hand approach, but the trapeze-type tailpiece invites some extended techniques on such a trimmed-down solidbody.
Exactly how many 2662s were ordered and built is not known, though they don’t pop up for sale very often. We’ve only seen two hit our site, and the other was not branded as Ibanez but as Mann, a brand name for a Canadian importer of Ibanez guitars in the ’70s. Fans of the guitar speculate that only a handful of 2662s exist, though that rarity has not led to astronomical asking prices when they do show up on the vintage market. We've seen exactly one Greco RW-700 change hands on Reverb, for the equivalent of roughly £1,300 (or a little more than $1,500).
This particular 2662 was originally listed for €3,800, but at the time of this writing had been price-dropped to €2,600 (or about $2,800). That new asking price is in line with the fancier of the two Weir-associated models (1970s 2681s average around $2,700) and a little less than the roughly $3,200 buyers spend, on average, for the Ibanez 2837CT, a korina V-style unveiled alongside the 2662 in Ibanez’s 1975 Custom Series.
Lawsuit-era guitars of all kinds seem to be getting more and more attractive to buyers, since they offer a relatively affordable entrypoint into the world of vintage guitar collecting. Can this column spark a revival for the obscure and cool 2662 (or, for that matter, the Greco RW-700)?
If a lawsuit-era guitar can command such interest, we wonder: Can this column help spark a revival for this obscure and cool Japanese original?
Sources: Ibanez catalogs from 1975 and 1976, Reverb listings, and Price Guide sales data.
The Les Paul Special has a deep lineage. The original Les Paul model, which came to be known as the Les Paul Standard in 1958, debuted in 1952. Two years later, as the line diversified, the Les Paul Custom arrived, as well as a student model called the Les Paul Junior. The Junior was the first slab-mahogany-body Gibson, with additional cost-saving measures evident in its single pickup, unbound fretboard, lack of binding, and plain dot neck markers. It sold for $99.50, versus the princely $225 price tag on the Standard, making the Junior the most affordable guitar in the 1954 Gibson catalog.
A year later, enter the Special. It also has a slab mahogany body, but upped the ante with two soapbar P-90 pickups, a Les Paul-style control set of two volume and two tone dials plus a 3-way toggle, a Tune-o-matic bridge and stop tailpiece (a combo Gibson debuted in 1953 on the Super 400), a wide ’50s-style fretboard, and a 1-piece mahogany neck with binding along the rosewood fretboard. The model came finished in TV yellow, and from 1955 to 1958 it featured a single cutaway. Priced at $179.50 in 1958, the Special was intended as an intermediate-level 6-string, nestled between the Junior and the original Les Paul. By 1959, the Special’s core design was changed to a double-cutaway and remained that way until a single-cutaway edition called the ’55 Les Paul Special was reissued in 1974. Today, the Les Paul Special still remains part of Gibson’s product line.
Long after someone had refinished this month’s featured guitar down to its mahogany body, I purchased it in the mid-1990s at Cambridge Music in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The other modifications are the replacement of the original Kluson tuners with Schaller’s and the swap of the original wraparound bridge with a Tune-o-matic, also done by a previous owner. And, of course, there’s a story.
I first saw this guitar on consignment inside a glass wall case. At the time, I did not have a slab-style Gibson, and it immediately spoke to me. I also did not yet own a P-90-equipped guitar, which amplified that voice. Honestly, I was afraid that if I played it, I’d fall in love and need to shell out the $1,200 asking price. Months passed, and it sat in the wall case, teasing me every time I made my frequent visits to the shop. One day, the inevitable happened: I asked to play it. I plugged into a couple Fenders and a Marshall combo and was struck by how comfortable the 12"-radius neck felt and how sweet the guitar sounded through a Fender Deluxe, and how spanky and barking it was through a Marshall with low-to-moderate gain, thanks to those P-90s. The term “bite” was coined for this guitar.
“That day, I walked away … but in the ensuing weeks I literally dreamed about this Les Paul Special.
That day, I walked away … but in the ensuing weeks I literally dreamed about this Les Paul Special. And then, a check for the first band profile I wrote for Rolling Stone, on Thalia Zedek and Chris Brokaw’s brilliantly edgy rock outfit Come, arrived. Clearing it with my wife, Laurie, I went to Cambridge Music with that check in my pocket. I explained to the shop’s co-owner, Dennis Keller, that if the consigner would agree to a price of $1,000, tax included, I would cross the street to my bank and bring back cash. Miraculously, the consigner agreed, and about a half-hour later I hit the subway with that refin Special in a black plastic “chainsaw” case with the Gibson logo on its side. I felt like a courier, escorting home a million bucks.
This ’58 Special is worth something in the neighborhood of $4,000 or a little less today. Similar single-cutaway Specials with the original finish, depending on road wear, are selling for between $13,000 and nearly $18,000. But I’m not jealous. This guitar is a flagship of great playability and classic, slab-body Gibson tone, and, due to that, this Special has paid back my initial investment with every trip it’s made to the studio and stage for nearly 30 years.