This acoustic-electric, built for the jazz-fusion guitarist, was varied in both specs and brand names throughout the late 20th century.
My last installment of Vintage Vault, in the April 2024 issue, highlighted the signature guitars of Johnny Smith, a 20th-century jazz legend whose eye for detail resulted in the creation of a premium electric archtop for the ages. Here, we turn our eyes to what could be that guitar’s stranger cousin: an odd merging of acoustic and electric design built for jazz-fusion guitarist Howard Roberts.
Now, if you find yourself asking, “What made these guitars so strange?,” you need only look at the pictures, for a start. It’s an archtop electric with an oval soundhole smack in the middle of the soundboard. But the model contains other interesting twists and turns of guitar history, as it was conceived as an Epiphone, continued as a Gibson, and was widely copied by Japanese brands during the so-called lawsuit era. And it began its life, oddly enough, as a very different guitar.
Roberts first gained fame within the jazz-playing world in Los Angeles, picking up session work in the 1950s before making his first records as a leader in the early ’60s. It was around this time that he connected with designer Andy Nelson at Chicago Musical Instruments Co. (CMI)—which had recently acquired both Epiphone and Gibson—to sketch out what might’ve been Roberts’ first signature guitar.
This 1967 Epiphone Howard Roberst signature would’ve been available for about $455 in its year of release.
Photos courtesy of Reverb and Garrett Park Guitars
The initial ideas were unique. It was to be built in the manner of Epiphone’s single-cutaway Triumph, a 17 3/8"-wide acoustic jazzbox that some players had taken to modifying with a floating neck pickup. Nelson and Roberts’ plan was to instead place a humbucker right into the body. This pickup, Nelson wrote, “must be sealed in black epoxy resin” to prevent feedback and help give a unique appearance, as it would double as a frame.
Reportedly, the guitar was simply too unique to be built, requiring new tooling that CMI didn’t want to invest in. However, the L-4 machinery was, at the time, sitting idle, so the thought went, why not create a Howard Roberts signature with the available tools?
“It gave him the warmth of the early acoustic archtops he was after, with the electric versatility that was all but obligatory in Roberts’ own era of music.”
The result, in 1964, was the first Epiphone Howard Roberts, an altogether different guitar, whose oval soundhole harkened back to the 1920s L-4s of old. It carried the sharp, Florentine cut of then-recent ’50s models, and a floating mini-humbucker in place of Nelson and Roberts’ embedded-and-epoxied dreams. (Unlike the Johnny Smith models, Roberts’ volume and tone pots were affixed to the body.)
Available first as a standard-production model, the Howard Roberts had a carved spruce top, a 16 1/4" lower-bout width, a nickel tailpiece with three raised parallelograms for some added flair, a rosewood bridge and fretboard, and tasteful block inlays up the neck. (The Vintage Vault find here is an all-original Epi Howard Roberts from 1967.) In 1965, the Howard Roberts Custom swapped in a Tune-o-matic bridge, ebony fretboard, and vine peghead inlay in place of the standard’s vertical oval.
The model features just one volume and one tone knob, a Tune-o-matic bridge, and ebony fretboard.
Photos courtesy of Reverb and Garrett Park Guitars
Neither model (nor, for that matter, the pickup-free acoustic variants) sold particularly well at the time. Epiphone built an estimated 350 or so before ending its production in 1970, when the company’s manufacturing moved overseas.
But that didn’t stop Roberts from enjoying the guitar. It gave him the warmth of the early acoustic archtops he was after, with the electric versatility that was all but obligatory in Roberts’ own era of music. And the slow sales from Epiphone didn’t dissuade Gibson from relaunching the guitar in many forms, starting with the Gibson Howard Roberts Custom in 1974. The wine-red prototype of this Gibson model turned into a favorite of Roberts’, who used it extensively from ’73 until his death in 1992.
In its third and fourth acts of life, the oval-soundhole Howard Roberts was built by Japanese guitar-makers under a spate of brand names—Ibanez, Hoyer, Greco, Goya—throughout the ’70s and finally reintroduced under the Epiphone brand in the ’90s.
Given the oddball nature of the guitar, you can find vintage models for a relative steal. The 1967 pictured here would’ve been available for about $455 upon release, but is on offer from Reverb seller Garrett Park Guitars now for $5,000, just a bit higher than Gibson models that have sold for around $3,000 in recent years.
Sources: Reverb listings and Price Guide data, Epiphone 1966 catalog, Gruhn’s Guide to Vintage Guitarsby George Gruhn and Walter Carter, American Guitars: An Illustrated History by Tom Wheeler, “Howard Roberts: H.R. Was a Dirty Guitar Player!” by Jim Carlton for Vintage Guitar, “Howard Roberts’ Personal Guitars” by University of Toronto’s Mike Evans.
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It’s almost over, but there’s still time to win! Enter Stompboxtober Day 30 for your shot at today’s pedal from SoloDallas!
The Schaffer Replica: Storm
The Schaffer Replica Storm is an all-analog combination of Optical Limiter+Harmonic Clipping Circuit+EQ Expansion+Boost+Line Buffer derived from a 70s wireless unit AC/DC and others used as an effect. Over 50 pros use this unique device to achieve percussive attack, copious harmonics and singing sustain.
When his brother-in-law passed away, this reader made it his mission to repair his old damaged Ovation guitar as a gift to his niece.
My brother-in-law passed away in March. He was a talented keyboardist and, in his heyday, played in bands that toured internationally. As a musician, he naturally had a guitar—a 1974 Ovation—and a “friend” put an unauthorized abstract paint job on it. That guitar had an extremely hard life: Its top was broken and the frets were completely worn out. As an aspiring luthier, I took the guitar to repair it then pass it on to his daughter. This proved to be a challenging task as I had never done anything more complicated than a basic setup before and I had few luthier tools.
A heat gun and thin spatula knife worked fine to remove the top and the bridge. I did my best to glue the new top halves together—but that left a visible seam, so I put a herringbone center strip over it (to match the purfling I would install later). I had no radius board, so I just clamped the pre-radiused braces I bought and was quite pleased that the new top did have a radius! Once I felt the bridge was sanded perfectly, I glued it down. I then replaced the plastic nut and saddle with bone. A hot soldering iron got the old frets out without damaging the fingerboard. (That said, next time I will clean those slots out better before installing new frets!)
“This proved to be a challenging task as I had never done anything more complicated than a basic setup before and I had few luthier tools.”
I was happy with my progress until I started routing the purfling channel. I had no workbench, and the concave Ovation body made things a bit awkward. While basically “bear hugging” the body with one arm and holding the router with the other, I heard a faint “pop.” The edge of an X-brace had come loose. I was able to squirt glue into the void with a syringe, but the concave guitar body made a brace jack useless (without fabricating a complicated caul). I removed the phono jack and jammed a pencil into the brace, keeping pressure on it with a rubber band. It worked!
Neil gave the Ovation a new lease on life with his extensive repairs, the end result of which can be seen here.
I also learned the importance of channel depth with purfling—I did lots of scraping to get everything flush. I am pleased with the finished product and my niece is so happy! I also put a new label inside the guitar body, with a dedication to her father on it.
Overall, there are multiple wins on this project. I gave tribute to my brother-in-law, made his daughter happy, and learned enough to build a guitar from scratch.
Our columnist links a few memories together to lead us to another obscure guitar model—one he remembers from his childhood and came to acquire as an adult.
Do you have any “click and stick” movies that you love? Like when you are channel surfing and see a movie that you’ve watched a lot, and then just watch it again? Lately, for me, it’s been the 2015 movie The Revenant. It’s a truly brutal tale of survival set in 1820s frontier America. My gosh, that movie just draws me in every time. There’s one scene where the main character goes flying off a cliff while riding a horse! He just sort of falls/rolls through a pine tree and lands in the snow … and he still survives! It’s crazy!
It makes me think about an old childhood friend who lived up the street from me. Jerry and his parents lived in an old house on their grandparents’ large plot of land. On one part of the land there was an old orchard filled with all types of fruit trees and pines, and I remember how we would climb to the top of the pines and just roll ourselves down the side, Revenant style! If you fell the right way, the branches would kind of gently let you down to the next, but if you hit it wrong and got in between the branches, you’d be wrecked. It’s like we enjoyed getting hurt, and, of course, when you’re young, you can snap right back. Ah, the days when pain really didn’t hurt. Now I wake up with injuries, for real.
“The action was way high and the fret ends were sharp. It was basically a painful affair.”
So why am I talking about my click-and-stick movie and stupid childhood escapades? Well, let’s get back to memories of my old friend Jerry. First, the house he lived in was so old that it had real wooden siding, but it hadn’t been painted in forever so the exterior took on a worn, faded, haunted house vibe. Second, his carpet was so tattered that it was being held together with duct tape. Lastly, I remember his dad had a cool, old electric guitar in the living room. His dad would let me play it sometimes, and I remember that it actually hurt to play! The action was way high and the fret ends were sharp. It was basically a painful affair. Not falling-out-of-a-tree painful, but as bad as it comes with guitars. It had the label “Conrad,” and young Frank didn’t realize that he’d be looking for that guitar again one day. I mean, it did have four pickups and lots of knobs and switches!
Made at the old Japanese Matsumoko factory in the ’60s, this Conrad Bison 1233 has four pickups and a 27" scale.
Years later, I would discover that his was a Conrad Bison guitar. The model came in a few different configurations, but the four-pickup design was designated as the 1233. Primarily featuring a lovely sunburst, these Bisons were made at the amazing old Matsumoku factory in Japan and were imported by the David Wexler Company that was based in Chicago. Matsumoku always had a good supply of aged wood, and many of the guitars made there are resonant and built well. The Bisons first appeared around 1966 and had a rather good run into the early ’70s.
Simple volume/tone knobs are paired with preset solo/rhythm switches that power alnico magnets. There’s an on/off switch for each pickup, and the sound really covers all the bases. Thumpy lows and crisp highs are all there. And, the pickups handle fuzz and distortion with ease. The Bisons also came in one- and two-pickup configurations with a normal scale, but the four-pickup ones have a longer, 27" scale, which is common for Matsumoku-made electrics.
So there it is: pain, survival, American frontier, Bison, haunted houses. It all sticks together like a duct-taped carpet. Click and stick, baby!
A 1000-watt speaker cabinet crafted for musicians who demand power and precision. Sunn Amps intends to reinvent the standard 4x12 configuration with the introduction of this new cabinet.
The Sunn Amps DoomBox is built to accommodate both guitar and bass, offering an impressive 1000-watt handling capacity—making it the first commercially available 4x12 cabinet with such high power handling. With four specially designed 12” drivers rated at 250 watts each, this cabinet provides clean, unrestrained sound levels that can maintain power integrity across all frequencies, ideal for high-volume performances.
Inspired and developed using feedback from artists and bands who rely on the depth of lower tunings and high volume genres, the DoomBox was engineered to meet the unique demands of professional musicians looking for a robust, high-efficiency cab that can translate the raw power of their sound without compromise.
Premium Craftsmanship and Materials
The Doom Box cabinet is crafted from solid finger-jointed Baltic Birch plywood, ensuring both durability and tonal clarity. Each cabinet is constructed by hand in the U.S.A. using original 1930s machinery, the DoomBox reflects Sunn’s historic commitment to quality, contrasting with some of the mass-produced, MDF-based cabinets on the market today. The cabinet’s aluminum basket, ferrite magnet, and custom Sunn weave Tolex with a custom grill design complete its professional-grade build.
Technical Specifications:
• Power Handling: 1000W
• Inputs: 1 x ¼”
• Impedance: 8 Ohm
• Drivers: 4 x Sunn 12S250
• Construction: Marine Grade Baltic Birch
• Dimensions: 29.25” X 30” X 14”
• Weight: 107 lbs
• Price: $2399.00
With clear low-end punch, even sound response, and ample air movement, the Doom Box ensures that every note reaches the audience with clarity and power. This cabinet is a game-changer for musicians who need high-performance, road-ready equipment that enhances their unique sound.