Our columnist shares how this guitar comes alive when played, with its small body belying its impressive voice.
Last month, I was talking about fragile guitars and how I’m always afraid of damaging or marring delicate things. Well, this month, I’ll take another look at a small hollowbody that, when I first got it, scared me in a different sort of way. Gentle reader, this guitar was alive—and I mean that in a sincere way. Good grief; this little guy vibrated and shook like an old-school 1970s stereo at full tilt! Let me introduce you to the St. George EP-85, dating to around 1964.
In the early days of guitar importing, there were a few Americans who ventured over to Japan, and Anthony George was one of the first. Mr. George owned several George Music Stores in upstate New York and one in Los Angeles, California. And, you guessed it, he used “St. George” as his brand name. He was influential in getting instrument manufacturer FujiGen Gakki up and running, and he was a rather prolific importer of Japanese guitars. He would often make specifications to Japanese factories and ask for certain models. Many of his early designs were originals, and kinda cool in their own right. The guy had an eye for design and sales, so most of his guitars sold pretty well. During one of my trips to Japan, I got the chance to look over sales receipts and shipping orders (FujiGen saved everything), and Anthony George was all over the earliest records. (One of his grandsons is still around, and is a fine fella!)
Now, the St. George EP-85 was made by Kawai, since the company was earlier to the game than FujiGen. Kawai had already designed a few pickups and had a full woodworking factory, since their previous business was in making pianos. The Kawai company had several decades of woodworking experience, and it had amassed a stockpile of properly aged wood. Some of the finest wood I’ve ever seen can be found on the earliest Kawai guitars. Seriously, there’s gorgeous Brazilian rosewood and finely flamed maple on basic student models! I’m not usually a wood fanatic, but I have seen Japanese factories with whole warehouses full of 100-year-old wood, and I’ve seen drying facilities with classical music being pumped in so the wood can be happy, I guess. What I’m trying to say is that in the traditional Japanese manner, they take their art seriously, no matter what the medium. And this undersized EP-85 is a perfect example.
“Good grief; this little guy vibrated and shook like an old-school 1970s stereo at full tilt!”
I no longer own this guitar, but I remember my experience with it pretty clearly. I’m guessing that this model was designed to resemble an early 1960s Gibson ES-140T because of the size, single Florentine cutaway, and P-90-like pickups. The St. George has a similar wood construction to the ES-140T as well. I have some experience with older Gibson hollowbodies, because there was a Gibson retailer in my area, and I used to see some cool examples show up in the classified ads back in the day. I also own a 1956 Gibson ES-125, and that thing projects like a cannon! The St. George, though smaller, also projects well, and when I first played it, it was shakin’ all over! The guitar was one of the most resonant instruments I have ever owned! I have guitars hanging all over the walls here and I often just strum them and listen, or feel, for resonance. The EP-85 was always the belle of the ball!
The electronics feature a basic layout of two volumes and one tone knob, and then a pickup switcher located on the upper bout. The pickups, in common Kawai fashion, read out at around 4k. But also in Kawai fashion, the wiring is in series, so the middle position puts out close to 8k, which can really drive a small tube amp. Thankfully, the neck angle is serviceable, which really is a blessing since the truss rod isn’t adjustable.
For slide players, this guitar is the bee’s knees! It can handle a little overdrive without totally losing it, and the constant string contact allows for some control over the feedback. Otherwise this guitar wants to take off and fly into the feedback zone, which is always sort of a cool adventure.
This model only had a short run, and was gone from Kawai catalogs by around 1965. Those big white cupcake knobs and pickups help to place a date of the early 1960s, and as the years passed, so did the quality of Kawai electrics. The company did go through an insane design phase in the late 1960s, but none of the guitars shake like this one. And, I didn’t break it!
1964 St. George EP85 Guitar Demo
The Firstman Liverpool Deluxe looks extreme, but would you believe it once appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show?
I've had this month's story on my shelf for quite some time, because I could really weave so many interesting threads and connections to this guitar. How does one honor a tremendous man with huge contributions to music when limited to a single page? But I'm feeling like it's time to tell at least part of the story behind one of the most interesting people I've ever met through my love of guitars.
Back around 2010, I began researching Japanese guitars in earnest, simply because I was discovering that there was too much speculation, misinformation, and plain-old ignorance floating around, and I found the fire to uncover the truth burning inside me. I started by reaching out to some Japanese internet connections via email, with the hope that we could communicate and that I'd make more contacts.
This Firstman Liverpool Deluxe may look like a battle axe, but it's chock full of warm, surfy clean tones.
Eventually, I found my way to a blog that was operated by a fellow named Kazy. He wrote in Japanese and English, and much of the content related to Mosrite guitars and his connections to Semie Mosely and Nokie Edwards. It turned out that Kazy was the nickname of Kazuo Morioka, and he became one of the most amazing sources I've ever encountered.
The guy was an excellent pianist, and was an early player of electrified pianos and organs. He shunned a cushy job with his family-owned pharmaceutical business to work for Kawai as a demo player, and went on to own a chain of music stores across Japan. He worked with all the early Japanese guitar companies and seemed to know all their employees and histories. After talking with Kazy, I developed a notebook full of numbers, emails, and connections all over Japan.
Mihara preferred a clean but strong sound, so that's what you'll find with one of these old Liverpool guitars.
Kazy spoke perfect English and had even lived in the U.S., near Seattle, for many years. He was friends with Semie Mosely, and together they produced a line of guitars in Japan that were called Mosrite Avengers. Kazy was also great friends with Nokie Edwards, who I missed meeting in person by one day while we were both visiting Kazy in Japan.
This month, I'll highlight one of Kazy's most extreme guitar designs. Kazy started electric guitar production in the late '60s using the brand name Firstman. He had the stellar idea to connect with popular Japanese bands and make custom guitars that would give them a signature look onstage. I suppose it was similar to groups wearing matching outfits in that era.
This Firstman Liverpool was the first, made in collaboration with Tsunaki Mihara of the Blue Comets. In the late '60s, the band had a huge hit called "Blue Chateau." They even played on The Ed Sullivan Show! Kazy and Mihara collaborated over every detail and put all kinds of considerations into the pickup frequency, attack and decay, coil winds, etc. Even the violin body shape was chosen because of its inherent resonance and projection, but, of course, with a more extreme Japanese design aesthetic. The deep, lightweight hollowbody is a rather large 15" across the lower bout, and came with some resplendent details, such as full-body binding and chrome accents. Plus, there was a totally posh scroll headstock.
Columnist Frank Meyers interviews Firstman founder and guitar designer Kazuo Morioka.
Mihara preferred a clean but strong sound, so that's what you'll find with one of these old Liverpool guitars. This guitar projects like a vintage Gibson hollowbody and has simple tone/volume knobs and a 3-way switch. I suppose these shapely black beauties present a menacing first impression, but they have a sweet sound that matches well with surf music and instrumentals.
Two Liverpool guitars were produced as prototypes, and a lot of handiwork went into them. According to Kazy, everything was carved and shaped by hand, from the arched tops and backs to the necks to the scroll headstocks. Kazy and Mihara received these guitars, and then, after the Blue Comets would play shows, there would be orders placed to make regular factory production runs.
A few variations on this guitar were produced, including a Liverpool Junior and a Liverpool Special, and they all came in black. Alas, Firstman guitar production didn't last long, ceasing in 1970. Once again, we're left with these interesting examples of ingenuity and effort, like time capsules waiting to be discovered again by future generations.
Blue Comets "Blue Chateau" (Ed Sullivan Show in 1968)
Design, build, and playability all combine in Yamaha's over-engineered-but-way-hip SG-3 guitars from the 1960s.
For better or worse, I have my email out there in the ether for anyone to ask me questions about old guitars. Sometimes I can genuinely help folks, and other times people just want to chat and share stories. The most common question I get is, "What is your favorite old Japanese guitar?"
That's tough for me to answer. I'm often in awe of a design. Other times, I admire a guitar's build and playability. Then, of course, I dig the tones of certain guitars. But when I bring it all together and combine all the factors, the answer can be pared down to the late–1960s Yamaha SG-3 guitars.
The SG-3 (and the two pickup SG-2) was really Yamaha's first foray into electric guitar building on a large scale. Located in Hamamatsu, Japan, Yamaha was—and still is—quite the prolific company. Back in the '60s, they had a rather large musical instrument department that made just about everything, from pianos and drums to amplifiers and stereo equipment. When the company started making electric guitars, everything was designed and produced in-house. And boy, did they ever succeed.
See, the SG-3 was designed in part with some help from musicians, electricians, and machinists who all came together in that admirable Japanese fashion where the finished product is a reflection of the best collective efforts put into it. These guitars were substantial and probably over-engineered, in a sense. These weren't the guitars we'd find at the local department store, and the SG-3 had a rather regal price tag of $249.50, which was a lot of bread!
The foundation of the SG-3 was certainly influenced by Mosrites and Fender's Jazzmasters and Jaguars, with an offset body, metal nut, slim neck, 25½" scale, and a powerful sound. The pickups are rather aggressive for the times, and that chunkier bridge unit is really where the magic lies. Those are actually two single-coils in that humbucker-looking housing, but they are differently designed. The one closest to the bridge has an extra magnet under the coils and then a metal bridge plate under that. That means the first bridge pickup is just meaner and more aggressive than the other ones. It's a cool idea when paired with the roller control on the upper bout.
The SG-3 (and the two pickup SG-2) was really Yamaha's first foray into electric guitar building on a large scale.
While the lower bout has a simple 3-way switch for all the pickups, the upper has a switch to engage the blender feature. This allows you to use that last roller to blend in that first pickup, combine it with the middle pickup, or turn it completely off. Yes, it's overly complicated but, once you find a sweet spot, good grief! The other rollers and knobs are simply volume and tone controls.
Aside from the electronics, you have to really appreciate the masterful roller-bridge and tremolo, which actually work very well. Heck, even the truss rod is "hidden" under a pseudo neck plate that allows for easy adjustment. The earliest versions of the SG-3 had an ultra-cool script motorcycle logo. Color choices were limited to sunburst, red and white, and all the guitars featured a poly finish.
As far as feel goes, the necks on these models are a little on the thinner side and the bodies are a little thicker, which to me feels like it's a mix of a Jazzmaster and a Mosrite. The offset body feels like a combination of both guitars and is well-balanced when strapped on. Link Wray famously used a red SG-2 for many years, and that's probably where I first saw one of these in action.
This model had a relatively short run, with production starting in mid-1966 and ending by the late 1960s. These Yamaha SG guitars didn't seem to sell very well here in the U.S. Most examples were brought back by servicemen stationed overseas, but you can find SG-3 guitars all over Japan, and it's a super special treat to discover the original cases, which often include a cute little vinyl bag of accessories.
So, now that you know my all-time favorite Japanese guitar, please don't go out there and start driving up the prices!