Dave Matthews is renowned not just for his soulful voice and poetic lyrics but also for his distinctive guitar style that's as unique as his music itself. When it comes to Dave's guitar playing, rhythm is the name of the game.
Picture this: intricate fingerpicking patterns interwoven with percussive strumming, creating a rhythmic tapestry that's both mesmerizing and infectious. Dave's approach to the guitar is like a dance – fluid, dynamic, and full of surprises.
At the heart of Dave Matthews' rhythmic style is his incredible technique. He effortlessly strums the strings, coaxing out melodies and rhythms that are heavily influenced by African music.
One of the hallmarks of Dave's guitar playing is his use of unusual time signatures and syncopated rhythms. He's not afraid to push the boundaries and experiment with different rhythmic patterns, creating a sound that's both complex and captivating. Whether it's the infectious groove of "Ants Marching" or the laid-back vibe of "Crash Into Me," Dave's rhythmic prowess shines through in every song.
In a world of cookie-cutter guitarists, Dave Matthews stands out as a true original. His rhythmic style is as distinctive as his voice, and it's a big part of what makes his music so timeless and unforgettable. So next time you listen to a Dave Matthews Band song, pay close attention to the guitar – you just might find yourself dancing along to the rhythm.
Our new columnist bares his family’s roots in guitar-building, going back to 1928 and his grandfather, who made instruments for Segovia and many others.
I’ve had the honor and blessing of growing up as a luthier’s apprentice. My entire life, being around instruments and music was the norm, and creating with my hands was equally a joy as playing hide-and-seek or baseball in the street. I’ve never known a world absent of artists or craftsmanship. In fact, many of us who’ve grown up the children of immigrants have had similar experiences, from watching our mothers and grandmothers create amazing traditional meals from raw ingredients to our fathers and grandfathers building what was necessary for shelter or creature comforts. My grandfather would often remind me, “If you can’t make it with your own hands, you probably do not need it.”
It was this patriarch who built the foundation that shaped my father’s future, my future, and the potential future for my two daughters. Porfirio Delgado Flores and Candelario Delgado Flores started our family business in 1928 in Torreón, Coahuila, México. The two brothers, although orphaned at a young age, stayed close to one another and played music together. My grandfather, Porfirio, or “Pilo,” as those close to him would call him, was a craftsman. Mainly starting out as a furniture maker, he would later get requests for repairing instruments, and then be encouraged to build one for a town fair or “faria”. He and his brother, “Candelas,” started a journey out of opportunity and passion.
In the mid-1930s, the business moved to Ciudad Juárez, Chihuahua, México, just 10 minutes from the México/United States border. In 1944, my father was born in an El Paso hospital, but registered and raised in Ciudad Juarez and baptized in the guitar shop. My grandfather named him after his brother, Candelario.
“My grandfather would often remind me, ‘If you can’t make it with your own hands, you probably do not need it.’”
Seeing greater opportunity, Pilo and Candelas left their families behind and made their way to California and opened a shop in the Boyle Heights neighborhood of Los Angeles in 1948. Their guitars were already gaining notoriety in other countries, and this move helped them garner a clientele, including Theodore Bikel, Narciso Yepez, Celedonio Romero, and Andres Segovia. While concert classical guitarists were commissioning instruments from them, they also had musicians from multiple genres seeking other types of traditional stringed instruments.
My father came to the States in the late 1950s and built his first guitar by the age of 14. After his time in the Army, he made his way back to the shop and helped take the business to new levels and reach even more clients—Arlo Guthrie, José Feliciano, Charo, Burl Ives, the Kingston Trio, and some high schoolers who formed a band called Los Lobos, to name a few.
I was born and raised in Los Angeles. The youngest of three children, I stuck like glue to my father. I started playing classical guitar at 5, I started repairing guitars by age 7, and I built my first guitar when I was 12—a requinto romántico that I still have. Everyone called me “Candelitas.” I apprenticed under my father and grandfather and would spend time in the shop every day after school in middle school, and most Saturdays and summers in high school. My father also raised us boxing, and he trained the Los Angeles Police Department’s boxing team.
In December of 1996, I lost my father to cancer. He battled it for three years and even helped the L.A.P.D. win a championship in November 1996, just one month before. My father was and continues to be the greatest man I’ve ever known, and I miss him every day.
In 2005, my wife Julie and I made the move to Nashville. I started over, but quickly made a name for our business. We are very involved in our community and work with music education around the United States. I was also blessed with two daughters who have beaten my record. My oldest, Ava, built her first instrument and completed it just two weeks after her 10th birthday. My youngest, Lila, is nine and in the final steps of her debut instrument. We also moved my mother to Tennessee two years ago, and she, along with my wife and daughters, are all involved in our family business.
Delgado Guitars continues to make instruments using the old-world, hand-crafted methods taught to me by my father and grandfather. We still make over 45 different types of string instruments, and I hope to share some of those with you in the articles to come.
This museum-ready flattop was built by a legendary Chicagoan luthier duo.
In the early 20th century, Chicago’s reputation was one of grit, and the city was full of factories, gangsters, and slaughterhouses. But in a small shop on the North Side’s Elm Street, brothers Carl and August Larson built fine acoustic instruments under a variety of brand names, including ornate statement pieces like this Maurer 595.
You could hang this on a wall in Versailles, and it wouldn’t look out of place. A 1920s 12-fret of impeccable beauty, the guitar positively drips with inlays. An elaborate pearl and abalone tree-of-life vine runs the length of the neck, from the top of the slotted mahogany headstock down its ebony fretboard. Within the herringbone purfling around the bound body and rosette, even more abalone decorates and dazzles. The ebony bridge features inlays of two ivory stars.
Measuring 15" wide and with a 25 1/2" scale length, the body is 3 1/4" deep, a bit shallower than you’d expect. It has a spruce top with Martin-style X-bracing underneath, and solid Brazilian rosewood back and sides. The neck is 1 7/8" wide at the nut, giving players more room across the fretboard.
This Maurer is a premium example of the work of the Larson Brothers, a pair of Swedish immigrants that occupy a unique space in American guitar craft. From about 1900 to the 1940s, they ran a tight operation that competed, in quality and innovation, with heavyweights like Gibson and Martin.
The guitar’s inlays, made of both pearl and abalone, run the length of the neck, from the headstock all the way down the fretboard.
Alongside archtops, mandolins, and harp-style guitars, the brothers built steel-string flattops like this Maurer—and started building them a full two decades before their rivals. But, while successful in their time, the Larsons were still very little-known in comparison. The fact that they didn’t release guitars under their own name, but a whole constellation of others—for their own brands Maurer, Prairie State, and Euphonon, for retailers like Wm. C. Stahl and W.J. Dyer, and more—didn’t help with name recognition.
Nonetheless, they were pioneers in modern acoustic lutherie, experimenting with reinforcement measures and building techniques. In 1904, August Larson patented his laminated bracing design, where he’d insert thin strips of harder rosewood or ebony within softer spruce braces, which helped add more rigid structure without too much more weight. He employed this technique in the Maurer 595 (you can see its “Pat” stamp inside the soundhole). In 1930, he patented a unique steel-rod contraption found in many Prairie State guitars, though not seen in our Vintage Vault find. Like most flattops built by the Larsons, this Maurer 595 also isn’t quite flat, thanks to another reinforcement measure the Larsons adopted. Built “under tension,” these tops have a permanent, slightly arched shape that, like their laminated bracing, helps withstand the pressure of steel strings.
You could hang this on a wall in Versailles and it wouldn’t even look out of place.
The precise level of detail and the problem-solving tenacity that the brothers brought to their work was no doubt spurred by August’s monastic devotion. Reportedly, he lived in the shop with a small bed and little furniture and was essentially married to his work (so much so that his one romantic marriage was short-lived). While it can’t be known who exactly did the inlay work on this instrument—August, Carl, or one of their part-time employees—it’s easy to imagine August hunched over a bench for hours upon exacting hours to get them right. And if not August himself, someone working with equal fervor in his shadow.
August Larson lived in his workshop, and it's not hard to imagine him or another dedicated employee toiling over the building of this guitar.
Photo by Jake Wildwood/Reverb
While we don’t know the exact year or have price lists for 1920s Maurers, this 595 represents the very top of the brand’s “best grade” guitars. So, it likely sold, originally, in the vicinity of $100, approaching the expense of higher-end Martins and Gibsons. Today, what had been low-end Maurers can fetch thousands of dollars, even in fair condition. Top-of-the-line builds like this 595 can fetch $20,000 or more if they’re collector-grade. Fortunately for all would-be buyers out there, this exact 595 has had enough repair work to be a little less expensive but remains in remarkably near-original shape.
Reverb seller Jake Wildwood, a self-described “country guitar doctor” that has worked on many Larson Brothers instruments, repaired the guitar, and writes that the work was minimal and quick: the removal of a metal bolt that had been placed in the heel, a neck reset, and some standard fret and setup work. Beyond the reproduction tuners, new bone saddle, and evidence of some repairs, this 595 is original. A 100-year-old guitar ready for its next century, with a current asking price of $17,000.
Sources: Gruhn’s Guide to Vintage Guitars, Vintage Guitar Price Guide, The Larsons Brother History (acousticmusic.org), Reverb listings and transaction data.