Battling a scary health diagnosis during the pandemic, a guitarist set out to conquer some bucket-list items and learned how to build his own pickups. He’s built 13 guitars and counting.
I’m an avid reader of Premier Guitar and have been modding Fenders since I can remember—way before the name “partscaster” was ever used. I’ve been battling bladder cancer the past few years. Little did I know just how important my love for single-coil Strats was going to change my life. Due to the Covid-19 shutdown, I couldn’t have surgery for five months until hospitals opened surgical wards again. I was going through chemo treatments and cancer was consuming my life. I had to find a way to keep myself and my mind busy. I couldn’t be around anyone, so what was I supposed to do? It seemed like every waking moment was being consumed by thoughts of cancer, cancer, cancer.
Believing I had very little time left, I decided to tackle some “bucket list” projects. Two things I’d never done: 1. Learn how to paint guitars, specifically vintage nitro paint jobs on unfinished bodies, and 2. how to make pickups.
Jobe Jude holds one of his handwound pickups.
And so, it began. I contacted Gary at Branzell Guitars in Nevada, a luthier originally from my area. He told me there was a learning curve (boy, he wasn’t lying) and started guiding me through the ins and outs of making great pickups. He recommended a Mojotone Pickup Coil Winding Machine for me. My favorite vintage Fender pickups are the ’57/’62s, but they’re lacking a RWRP (reverse wound, reverse polarity) middle pickup, which really gives you that Fender quack in position 2 and 4. So, if I could get in the ballpark of the Fender ’57/’62s and Mojotone 59s, I would be a very happy builder. After trying three types of wire, my favorite tones came from vintage Formvar wire and the plain enamel. I only use Remington wire. It will unwind from the spool with no issues and the wire sounds the same, spool after spool. I soak my flatwork in lacquer and let it dry overnight before winding.
If you’re a player that has no issue dropping $400 to $500 on some handwounds, I encourage you to buy a pickup winder and learn to make your own pickups. It takes time, but you’ll learn faster than you think. You can make them get the tone you’re after. Just about any handwound pickup will beat any factory pickup. One reason I think is in the tightness. It’s all about the feel you get when doing the windings. Once you have it down, you can make the same spec pickups time after time.
Now to find unfinished bodies for painting. I ended up with six new and one used. The used body was a 1999 MIM Fender I purchased from a young lady named Julie. This was a gift from her father. After many years, she decided to repaint it. She was unhappy with the results, so she sanded it down, all the way back to unfinished wood. I bought the body and painted it shell pink. My first question about paint was: Do I buy a sprayer, or can I do it from a can? My friend Frank Harrison, who owns a hundred Strats, (he says the number is much lower) told me to find Gracey’s paint. And yes, the can works. I added a rosewood neck and named her Julie, of course. It is one great guitar.
Jobe Jude’s “paint locker.“
So far, I have seven paint jobs and 13 other “partscasters” going at once. Screw you, cancer! I am keeping busy. I have learned more in the last two years than I have in 50 years of playing and working on guitars.
In 2022, I had a setback with the cancer and several rounds of treatments. On August 26, 2022, I had retesting to see if it had worked. My closest guitar warriors gathered for a cookout the following day. Good or bad news, we were all going to be together. Good news! No evidence of disease found. I’m not out of the woods; it’s cancer. But I have hope.
I hope my story can help someone. Special thanks to PG for letting me share it and everyone who helped me through this pathway.
Send your guitar story to submissions@premierguitar.com.
Is Alanis Morissette about to collaborate with Harley Flanagan, or am I just flying high on Delta-variant wings?
Believe me, the irony of writing what I'm about to write after my previous column called out "Guitardom's Biggest Crybaby" is not lost on me. As we once again put the final touches on our annual Pedal Issue—a mammoth effort stacked with 25 reviews of killer new stomps from both biggies and underdogs—I decided to take a look at how I commemorated the big event last year. In that little ditty ("This World Sucks, So I Made My Own"), I mentioned how the process had been complicated not just by the then-new pandemic wreaking havoc on the industry, but also by both a freak storm here at PG headquarters and a Mad Max-esque wildfire situation for PG staffers based in California.
How rich, then, that a year later we—collectively—are yet again on our heels from the hip new Delta variant and a crapload of new fires all over the world. (Apparently John F. Malta, artist for this year's super-neato Pedal Issue cover, was feeling the same vibes, too!) Meanwhile, all the humans in my household are recovering from one mother of a virus. We're all vaccinated and tests say it's not COVID, but maybe they're false negatives? Either way, it's the shittiest we've felt in a decade, and only a fraction of the OTC meds we've been downing seem to do any good. After a couple weeks of tissue-filled garbage cans and a chorus of ungodly nose-blowing and hacking coughs, we're finally kind of on the mend, but my sinuses are still so clogged and my brain so sleep deprived I can hardly put words together in any semblance of sense. Hell, I don't even know if any of this is truly textbook irony or whether I'm just mucus-musing, Alanis Morissette-style, to the tune of a nonexistent Cro-Mags album.
Point is, my perception of things might be just slightly colored by my own misery, but it seems to me the world still kinda sucks—probably a helluva a lot more than we thought it would this time last year. But hey, at least we still have pedals!
I don't even know if any of this is truly textbook irony or whether I'm just mucus-musing, Alanis Morissette-style, to the tune of a nonexistent Cro-Mags album.
And that's no sass either, friend. Sure, PG crewmembers still lurching toward deadline might read some sarcasm into the statement. But it truly is a testament to our resilience as a community, as a species, that we've somehow managed to come up with so many mesmerizing stompboxes and make ever-cooler music with them, despite the state of things.
I personally got my first-ever whacks at three pedal brands I'd never really played before—one from an industry heavyweight, two from tiny outfits—and each took me by ever-so-pleasant surprise. Call me shallow … or maybe say I'm setting the bar low … or whatever, but hey, if I can derive a few hours of somnambulistic sonic pleasure as the world around me/us seems to fall further into the pot, then that's a win in my book. (Granted, again, it probably isn't quite textbook material.)
Rest assured, once my head is cleared, I'll have better perspective on all this. In the meantime, all I can say is—get your jabs (vaccinations), mates. A snot-filled week is better than dead. And it's your best chance to witness the next batch of ear-tantalizing pedals come this time next year.
While plenty of people purchased guitars over the past year-and-a-half, our columnist predicts post-pandemic gear liquidations are on the horizon.
The COVID pandemic's effects on the music industry have dominated this column for over a year. Now that most of North America is essentially acting as if COVID is in our collective rearview mirror, it might seem to be time to swivel to another topic. But is there an interesting corner of the music business untouched by the events of the last 18 months? From what we buy and how we buy it, to where we can play or listen to others playing, not to mention how we learn to play, every stage in the music-making process has been affected by COVID. It's not just that something has changed. It's more like everything has changed.
It may be a little early for long-range forecasts, but it appears that after grim statistics are merely hand-wringing history and masks just curious artifacts, we'll probably still be waiting far longer for new instruments compared to 2019. And while guitar manufacturers can't keep up with demand, at least here in the San Francisco Bay Area, lots more guitars are coming back on the market. Unlike after the financial meltdown a dozen years ago, it doesn't seem that people are shedding guitars because of financial need, or because their vintage guitars are no longer appreciating in value. More people want guitars, and often want them ASAP, but at the same time more people are selling at least some of their guitars, so what gives?
The answer is that COVID's turmoil hasn't just changed how we shop for instruments we want to play. It has changed how we think about the guitars we already own, but aren't using. Months of lockdown may have led to a lot more guitar playing, but such a prolonged period when we were never far from our guitars was also an extended moment of reckoning. As one customer put it as he plopped a prized vintage Gibson from the '60s on the counter, "If being locked at home with this rig for the last six months hasn't made me play it again, nothing will, so I might as well get rid of it." One easy summary is that COVID robbed us of the excuses we'd long been using, especially when talking to ourselves, about why we hadn't been playing some instruments as much as we used to or wanted to.
COVID's turmoil hasn't just changed how we shop for instruments we want to play. It has changed how we think about the guitars we already own, but aren't using.
Lots of people adopted pets during the pandemic. Now that they can socialize again and have to go back to work, many of those animals are, sadly, being put up for adoption. While that COVID-inspired 7-string or terz guitar isn't as demanding as a puppy and won't suffer when it changes owners, how long will people keep an instrument they no longer have time to practice playing in hopes of mastering its quirks? Those who restricted their experiments to new tunings and playing styles may be the post-pandemic winners as all they'll have in excess are a few unusual picks and some weird sets of strings. But if lots of the stay-at-home–inspired instrument purchases become little more than excess baggage that's "oh so COVID," there may be another wave of instruments returning to the market.
Trends in guitar collecting are fascinating and often change in identifiable phases. When guitar collecting was picking up steam decades ago, many people gathered guitars that reflected the wide range of styles offered as the instrument's popularity skyrocketed in the middle of the last century. Guitars dominated popular music at the time and collections often mirrored the wide variety of guitar sounds the collectors had heard, especially when they were young. No collection was complete without an orange Gretsch archtop, a Martin dreadnought, and maybe a Guild 12-string. Often included was a metal-bodied National, a Dobro, plus at least one classical guitar. But in recent years, such broad-view collecting has fallen out of favor and, instead, many collectors are micro-focused. One person wants a complete set of all the Gibson flattop models shown in the company's catalogs in the late 1930s and early '40s, for instance, while another wants only Martins with the rare "dark top" (sunburst) option.
COVID has inspired a lot of people to purchase lots of instruments, and as players stretch out, often from boredom as much as curiosity, the quest for variety seems to have returned. A few years from now, will we look at a list of fretted instruments including an open-back banjo, a mandola, and several different types of guitars, and think "That looks like a COVID collection?" Only time will tell.