The scoop on the rarest of Fender solidbodies.
Hello and welcome back to Mod Garage. This month, we will have a look at the most weird and elusive Fender guitar ever: the Marauder. We will not only cover some really interesting technical details, but also its history.
I think it’s fair to say that the Fender Marauder, like Gibson’s Moderne, was ahead of its time, and neither guitar made it beyond the prototype stage—at least not as originally designed.
The Marauder’s ’60s production model came with three pickups in a Jaguar-style body, many rocker switches, German carve headstock, and some even with slanted frets. It was later offered as part of the Modern Player series as well as through the custom shop. But the original design and concept of the Marauder was quite different.
In order to see what Leo Fender cooked up in the mid ’60s, we will have to take a short journey back in time, firing up the flux capacitor in our DeLorean with 1.21 gigawatts of energy. Our destination is the Fender factory in California, somewhere between 1963 and 1964—the early beginnings of the space age. The United States worked on the Apollo program at the same time the former Soviet Union worked on the Luna program on the other end of the world. Europe was busy developing and building the Concorde, and Leo Fender, sitting on the porch of his home in Orange County, was ready for his next stroke of genius.
Today, “less is more” is a common approach, not only in the guitar industry. But back then, it was “more is more” and “the more, the merrier.” Leo Fender offered the Esquire with one bridge pickup, and the two-pickup Esquire/Telecaster followed soon after. The next step was the Stratocaster with three pickups, which was mostly influenced by Bill Carson, one of Leo’s favorite guitarist guinea pigs in the ’50s. The next logical step was a guitar with four pickups, and that was exactly the idea behind the Marauder project. There are other guitars with four pickups, like the Japanese-made Teisco/Kawai EG-4T (nicknamed the “Hertiecaster”), or the Italian-made Welson Kinton, Galanti Grand Prix V4, and Eko 500/4V. But Leo Fender went the extra mile with his Marauder concept and installed the pickups underneath the pickguard for a very sleek aesthetic.
“The next logical step was a guitar with four pickups.”
Let’s have a look under the hood: The patent for the Marauder was filed March 6, 1964, and granted December 6, 1966—US patent #3290424—so we can say that developing and prototyping probably started somewhere in 1963. In addition to the four pickups under the pickguard, the original Marauder had a 3-way switch for each of the pickups, plus a Telecaster-style master volume/master tone configuration. On the patent, you can clearly see that the guitar was planned as an offset-type like the Jazzmaster or Jaguar using the same hardware.
There was, however, a one-off prototype built around a Stratocaster that has a dedicated 3-way lever pickup selector switch from the Telecaster and Stratocaster (the 5-way switch was not yet invented then) for each pickup, which looks really weird.
The Pickups
The pickups in the Marauder were designed by a man named Quilla “Porky” Freeman, a Western-swing musician and tinkerer based in Missouri. These large, slightly offset experimental pickups featured a dozen pole pieces and deep armatures, which helped give it a percussive tone. To compensate for the distance from the strings, the pickups were overwound. The patent document clearly states that all four pickups had the same winding direction (phase), but different magnetic polarity. The first (bridge) and the third pickup had south polarity, while the second and fourth (neck) pickup had north polarity, which was a clever move. This was the start of what is known as a “stealth pickup” today, often used as the hidden neck pickup on an Esquire. For such a construction, it’s important that the pickguard material is non-magnetic.
The Switching Matrix
Each of the pickups is connected to its own 3-way on-off-on switch, allowing the corresponding pickup to be on, off, or on with reversed phase, resulting in a total of 48 different sounds between the four. If the idea of these 3-way pickup selector switches sounds familiar, that’s because this is the basic design of Brian May’s “Red Special” guitar that he built with his father Harold in 1963. While that’s the same time frame, it’s close to impossible that Leo Fender knew what Brian May was doing in the U.K., so two geniuses simply had the same idea at the same time.
Here we go with the wiring: The four toggle switches are double-pole on-off-on types, volume and tone are 250k audio, and the tone cap is a 0.05 uF type. To keep the diagram clean, I substituted all ground connections with the international symbol for ground.
Illustration courtesy of Singlecoil
That’s it! Next month, we will talk about a very cool and clever way to integrate a variable dummy-coil into a guitar, so stay tuned.
Until then… keep on modding!
This 1971 Univox model was one of the Nirvana frontman's favorite pawnshop guitars.
Don't even ask me how I found out about this, but on a recent night while stumbling around the internet in a whiskey haze, I discovered an auction for some of Kurt Cobain's hair. Yes, six glorious strands of bleached hair were neatly encased in plastic and accompanied with all sorts of provenance to assure any bidder that this was the real deal. Of course, I immediately set to thinking about the economic ramifications of placing a bid (starting at $2,500), and after a few drinks I was set to put in a last second snipe. Alas, I fell asleep and quickly forgot about it. When I checked back a few days later I saw the final price was … $13,800!
Heck, I saw Nirvana live several times back in the day and I sure wasn't thinking about Kurt's hair. But I was always impressed by how such a small guy could have such a powerful presence. I also marveled at his choice of gear, which always seemed sort of random. I mean, Kurt would switch out all manner of Fender guitars, but then there were always these oddballs that he would use. Among his early favorites were Univox Hi-Fliers, which I really liked, because one of my early favorites was also a Hi-Flier.
There are all sorts of great players who've swung these around on stage, including Lee Renaldo and Dexter X, but it was Kurt and his Hi-Flier that really resonated with my young self.
Back in the late 1980s, I saw Nirvana for the first time in Hoboken, New Jersey. The night was mostly fuzzy, but Kurt playing a Hi-Flier really blew me away. Like, here I was … some goofball kid who was obsessed with cheap, weird guitars, and then there's this little powerhouse of a guy playing really heavy riffs on a pawnshop guitar. It was a life-changing moment. I felt validated by seeing another guitar player with one of my bargain-shelf favorites.
In 1968, the Westbury, New York–based Unicord Corporation was importing some very interesting Japanese gear, which was rather amazing and affordable. My original, longtime setup consisted of a Hi-Flier and a Univox Super-Fuzz, both going through an old Harmony 420 bass amp. Each component in that chain was more than I probably deserved as a player (I was always more of a noisemaker), 'cause all the Univox guitars from the late '60s and early '70s were consistent, sounded fine, and could pretty much hold tuning.
Simple but effective, this 1971 Univox has just one control each for tone and volume, hot single-coil pickups, and a Jazzmaster-like vibrato bridge that holds tune far better than most budget imports of its day.
Univox guitars were built in the Matsumoku facility in Matsumoto City, Japan, in a former Singer Sewing Machine factory which was repurposed in the mid-1960s to make some of the country's better electric guitars for about 20 years. Univox-branded guitars were really common on the secondhand market of the 1980s and could be had for a song. Heck, even the list price on a Hi-Flier was only around $90 in the early '70s. (Today, old Hi-Fliers tilt up to a grand!) That was really the dawn of the copy era, so, to outdo the American competition, Univox products were priced much lower and had much cooler names. Les Paul copies were called the Gimme and the Mother, their 335 knock-off was the Coily, and the Dan Armstrong plexiglas copy was dubbed Lucy. I really need to write a book on weird guitar names, and I really need to honor the hype-writer of the day who described the Hi-Flier 6-string and bass as:
Lets ya feel free … with curves where ya want 'em. Loose … Flat … Light. A guitar to fly with, slide with, bend with, and a bass that gets funky!
Yo, dig that! Throughout the 1970s, the Hi-Flier went through a few changes, such as a switch to humbuckers, but the general layout and feel stayed true to its Mosrite roots and it was quite the player—with one volume and one tone control, and a 3-way pickup switch. And yes, the pickups on my '71 are single-coils, but they're way overwound and read hot, at about 9k. These P-90 look-alikes just scream and are always on the edge of exploding when some fuzz or distortion is added. The neck profile on Matsumoku-made guitars tends to be a bit flat in the shoulder, à la early Epiphone/Gibson electrics, but these Hi-Fliers are thinner across the nut. As for the vibrato, it has a really tight, Jazzmaster feel. Japanese twang-bar bridges are not usually that great, but this unit was one of the first good ones.
I don't think you could go wrong with any Hi-Flier version, although there are people who swear by one model or another. There are all sorts of great players who've swung these around on stage, including Lee Renaldo and Dexter X (Man or Astroman?), but it was Kurt and his Hi-Flier that really resonated with my young self. Oh, and if any of you have any of Kurt's hair, give me a call, dig?
Univox Hi Flier Phase II Guitar Demo
The Kay-made Swingmaster P-5 carries the torch for its higher-end predecessors, like the company's Barney Kessel model.
When the guitar boom of the 1960s hit, manufacturing operations all over the world rushed to meet skyrocketing demand. There were factories in Japan and Italy, in Southern California and Czechoslovakia, and, perhaps most prolifically of all, in Chicago, Illinois—that long-established center of American retail distribution. Chicago instrument makers churned out entry-level guitars in enormous volumes, and by the time of Beatlemania, it seemed like they couldn't build them fast enough.
The three big names from this time and place were Harmony, Valco, and, the maker of today's featured instrument, Kay. All three companies competed and at times collaborated, and supplied instruments to retailers like Sears and Montgomery Ward to be sold under a dizzying array of brand names.
This is one of a series of Kay-made instruments with appointments similar to that of the earlier Gold K generation.
In today's vintage market, Harmony is known for the sheer volume of beginner guitars it produced, while Valco, the company behind brands like Supro and National, has enjoyed something of a Jack White-ified resurgence over the past two decades. (Believe it or not, "Fell in Love with a Girl" was released in 2001.) Kay's reputation and legacy, while high among a certain set of collectors and players, is perhaps less well defined, but still claims a fascinating history of its own.
Like Harmony, Kay's origins can be traced to the 1890s when it started as the Groeschel Mandolin Company. In the 1920s and '30s, it went through some name changes, eventually landing on Kay Musical Instrument Company under the leadership of Henry Kuhrmeyer. Kay was right there at the birth of the electric guitar as one of the first makers to explore this new arena in the 1930s.
These Kleenex box variations on the P-90 have larger pole pieces, but typically less midrange than actual P-90s, giving them a distinctive tone that's highly sculptable thanks to individual pickup tone and volume controls.
The most intriguing stretch of Kay's history came in the late 1950s, when it sought to compete directly with higher-end brands and market more professionally oriented guitars, called the Gold K series, which included a set of signature models for jazz great Barney Kessel. A Kay catalog from 1959 proclaims, "Only Kay offers you so complete a line—ranging from a $24.50 student model to a $400 professional electric." A $400 guitar in this era would put it on the same shelf as a high-end Gibson. Mr. Kessel himself made the switch to Gibson by 1961, which, going by the guitars featured in Kay catalogs from this period, coincides with a refocus by the company towards the lower end of the market.
The humble headstock marks this Kay-built Airline as a more affordable model than its Kelvinator-headstock-equipped inspirations. Nonetheless, it is a formidable example from the heyday of Chicago guitar builders.
The Gold K and Kessel models (along with the Thin Twin, which was played by bluesman Jimmy Reed) are the most recognizable vintage Kays and are set apart by their higher-end hardware—flourishes like the ornate "Kelvinator" headstock (which, along with the pickup frames and pickguard, resembled the appointments of that company's line of appliances) and the distinct Gold K pickups, sometimes called Kleenex box pickups, for obvious reasons. Moving through the '60s, as Kay shifted away from the original Gold K guitars, these pickups—a variation on the P-90, with larger pole pieces—continued to be used on other models including today's featured instrument, the hollowbody Swingmaster P-5 archtop. Sold under the Airline brand name exclusively through Montgomery Ward, this guitar shows up in a 1965 edition of their catalog simply as an Archtop Dual Cutaway. While often vintage dealers and others label any Kay with the Kleenex box pickups a Barney Kessel model, this does not appear to have been the actual designation. Instead, this is one of a series of Kay-made instruments with appointments similar to that of the earlier Gold K generation, but overall, more in the mold of the other guitars then being sold through catalog partners.
Here's an unobstructed view of the curly maple back of this Airline Swingmaster P-5. The neck appears to be rosewood.
According to the Reverb listing for this guitar from Guitar Showcase of San Jose, California, it has a replacement bridge and some swapped screws, as well as a noticeable crack on the bottom near the trapeze tailpiece hinge. The listing also points out the strength of the Kleenex box pickups, which are controlled by a 3-way selector and individual tone and volume dials. The triple set of pickups on this guitar is part of what makes this model one of the most sought-after Kay instruments of the 1960s—at about one-third to one-half the price of a two-pickup Kay with the actual Kessel designation and Kelvinator headstock. This specific guitar was listed at $1,995.
There's a tendency for those of us who are interested in the history of gear to seek easy categorization and neat, orderly model names and serial number sequences. During the '60s guitar boom, among the wholesaling factories things were never quite so simple. They used what parts they had. That stack of bodies might meet that pile of necks, and the result might contrast a bit with how that model looked last year or will look in the next batch. Oddities, contradictions, and inconsistent information abound on the vintage market when it comes to Chicago guitars, and Airline-branded Kays like this one are a typical example. Ultimately, though, it's this mysteriousness and the possibility of finding something truly unique that makes guitars like this so much fun.