Jared James Nichols’ 1952 Les Paul Standard.
The hype around vintage guitars has made them more expensive than ever before—but arguably, you can find all that you need in “cheaper” gear.
It’s official: We are living in the most expensive time ever. According to the United Texas Credit Union, “Since 1970, the Consumer Price Index saw a 500-percent-plus increase.” Even after adjusting for inflation, the numbers prove that 2023 dollars buy a whole lot less than they did 25 or 50 years ago.
Go grocery shopping, or look at real estate. It’s shocking and frankly depressing how expensive it is just to live today. Along with all that madness, there’s a weird paradox in the guitar world: Old guitars have never been more expensive—but there has never been a better selection of affordable brand new guitars and amps.
When I was a kid during the late ’70s and early ’80s, most cheap guitars were, well, cheap. They played rough, sounded bad, looked odd, and pretty much disintegrated quickly. They were at times built by children in sweatshops with inferior materials, so you got what you paid for. Brand-new, well-built guitars were expensive, but you could find pawnshop or yard-sale bargains on used Gibson, Fender, Martin, Gretsch, or other popular models in “Anytown, USA.”
But we are in a different world today. Firstly, builders today are expanding on the work of all the golden-age builders from the past, constantly tweaking and often improving on old designs. A few trained employees working with the now omnipresent CNC machines can flawlessly cut bodies and necks day and night, bringing the price point way down. I have played new guitars for under $200 that were shockingly good. If a fire destroyed everything I own and I needed to gig that night, I would be totally fine gigging with any of the guitars mentioned in this PG column: “10 Rock-Solid Guitars Under $600.”
I could plug one into a $250 dollar Boss Katana amp and pretty much sound like me for as little as $600, all in. If I looked for used or Black Friday sale items, I could probably cobble together a complete gig rig for as little as $400. And yet in spite of the many solid options for affordable, great new gear, vintage gear has never been more overpriced. I recently considered buying a 1962 patent sticker Gibson humbucker for a staggering $1,450. For the record, I bought my first PAF pickups in 1988 for $400 and they came attached to an all-stock 1961 Les Paul with the original hardshell case. (Sadly, those days and that guitar are gone.)
I considered this overpriced pickup because I was seduced by the hype. Logical me knows that there are way better options. I’ve conducted private shootouts comparing original PAFs to new Burstbuckers, DiMarzio’s PAF Masters, and pickups from Stocktone Custom Shop, OX4, Pete A. Flynn, and others, and honestly, they are all so close that I’m not sure which is better, or if “better” is even a thing. They all have their own personal magic. But when you are chasing vintage gear, it’s not really about the sound; it’s about desire and the seduction of consumerism. The stupid heart wants what it wants.
“But when you are chasing vintage gear, it’s not really about the sound; it’s about desire and the seduction of consumerism.”
I have a Ross Gray Compressor that I purchased for $50 in junior high (a king’s ransom at the time). Now they sell for $600 and up. I like the old Gray, partly for sentimental reasons, but honestly, I have four compressors that are just as good if not better. (Keeley Compressor Plus, Homebrew Electronics CPR, Origin Effects Cali76, and a Boss CS-1 that I bought for $35 in a pawnshop 15 years ago.)
I recently hung out with Richie Faulkner, the incredible guitarist in Judas Priest and Elegant Weapons. We were talking about the insanity of the vintage market when Richie told me that he is not swayed by the vintage guitar hype. He maintains that modern builds are mostly better. Granted, Richie still tours with his old friend, a 1974 Gibson LP Custom 20th Anniversary model, but in designing his signature guitars with Gibson and Epiphone, he was able to create a modern guitar that does everything he needs that vintage guitars don’t do. I’ve played his Epiphone sig, listed for $999, and it is an inspiring rock ’n’ roll tone machine.
For me, the biggest problem with expensive gear is that it’s a lot of pressure to live up to the hype. Personal experience has proven that I can sound just as bad on a ’59 Les Paul as I can on a cheap guitar…. I may sound even worse on the ’59 because I get psyched out.
Maybe the vintage market dies with my generation as kids learn that an SE plugged into a Line 6 Helix does everything they need without the hassle, expense, and cartage. Maybe my generation is drawn to vintage gear because we are sentimental. That’s why we stage elaborate gear photoshoots and love the scratches and dings on old guitars. That being said, when that market crashes, I’m buying a 1957 goldtop, hopefully with a 5-speed.
The Deco hollowbody masters dive deep into the baritone zone.
D’Angelico Guitars has announced the release of two baritone models. The Deluxe Atlantic Baritone and Deluxe SS Baritone were designed to offer exceptional comfort and vivid, articulate tone—unmistakably different from most baritone offerings. Custom pickups from Seymour Duncan capture every nuance in the low-end, while premium features such as Grover Locking Tuners and Jescar fretwire result in professional grade performance and feel.
The Deluxe SS Baritone is a wholly unique semi-hollow. Pairing its punchy, undersized body shape with two Seymour Duncan D'Angelico Great Dane P90s, the Deluxe SS Baritone stirs together seemingly disparate elements into something all new. A fifteen-inch-wide semi-hollow body offers airy woodiness on top of thick, pronounced midrange—providing enough power to lead a heavy ensemble and enough elegant clarity for emotive clean tones. A 26.75" scale length strikes the balance between prioritizing player comfort and achieving vivid tone. Now available in Satin Trans Wine and Satin Honey.
Due to some recent health problems, I’m doing everything I can to push back my expiration date. I think it’s helping me become a better guitar player, too.
A friend of mine owned an NBA team and an NFL team. Once, I overheard him talking on the phone about trading a player. When asked what goes into that, he told me that although actuaries cannot accurately predict your life span, there are hard numbers that show a highly accurate decline of muscle with age. This inevitable muscle loss leads to injuries and a general decline in performance. The numbers make it clear that there’s an expiration date on every professional athlete, even factoring in the outliers. Every time I groan as I load my amp into my car, I think about that conversation to fuel my anxiety and fatalism on the weary drive to and from the gig. If professional athletes in their late 20s are physically past their prime, how long can the average musician keep going, factoring in our proclivity toward late nights and the adjacent vices?
I don’t want to be the guy moaning, “Oh, my aching back,” but the reality is, mountains turn to dust and so do we. That’s the price of admission. I’m doing everything I can to push back my expiration date: exercise, yoga, acupuncture, constant stretching, massage, practicing physical awareness, and trying not to eat poison. Despite these precautions, my hands have new issues with numbness and stiffness, and there’s a lot of pain in my lower back, forearms, neck, and shoulders. Many paranoia-driven Google searches later, I’ve narrowed my newish ailments down to a blend of carpal tunnel, arthritis, gout, vitamin B12 deficiency, lupus, rickets, Long Covid, and/or an adverse response to my multiple Covid vaccinations.
It could be a natural part of the aging process that has recently accelerated, or it could be something else. I’m just hoping to fix it if it’s fixable.
I’m reluctant to even mention the latter. Eric Clapton told his friend, Italian architect Robin Monotti Graziadei, “My hands and feet were either frozen, numb or burning, and pretty much useless for two weeks. I feared I would never play again.” Graziadei shared this info on social media and Clapton was immediately labeled an old crank and became a pariah. These are strange times where an opinion shared even in private can undermine your personal and professional life. To be clear, I’m not saying the vaccine is the cause of my physical glitches. I’m saying Clapton’s issues sound very similar to mine.
Diagnosing a physical problem is the most difficult task of any healthcare professional because we’re all physiologically unique. On top of that, this is not a lab; there’s no control group in the real world. Everyone has their own lifestyle, genetics, diet, and stress that combine to affect us differently. It could be a natural part of the aging process that has recently accelerated, or it could be something else. I’m just hoping to fix it if it’s fixable.
What has helped the most is trying to be more present all the time, checking in with my body throughout the day, but particularly when I’m playing music, like the body awareness you’re supposed to be focusing on while doing yoga. I’m noticing how I’m holding too much tension, hitting too hard, trying too hard, tensing up my neck, arms, and hands when I’m playing. I’m trying to be aware of tension and letting it go. I’m attempting to do the same thing with my brain … let go of those thoughts that undermine a performance, or basic happiness. That may be a secret to life— knowing what to hold onto and what to let go of.
Maybe it’s because Basie was so in tune with the band and the music that he placed that note at the perfect place with the perfect volume, with the perfect attack and decay.
Honestly, although my hands are not at their prime, being more aware of what they’re doing probably makes me sound better. I’m more relaxed. I try to slow down and feel it, which improves my pocket. Maybe that’s the way it works. You get older, your body disintegrates but you learn enough along the journey that you can compensate. I read an interview with Les Paul, who said:
“It was a great pleasure playing with Count Basie just before he died. Talking about him, he’d just lift his left hand and take one finger and hit one note. It was the best damn note I ever heard. It’s not how many notes you play; you just have to play the right ones!”
Maybe Les felt it was the best note because of the emotional context of watching a dying friend performing. Or maybe it’s because Basie was so in tune with the band and the music that he placed that note at the perfect place with the perfect volume, with the perfect attack and decay. The Count wasn’t counting bars or reading. That old dude was going full Jedi-Yogi and connected to the universe. Les Paul recognized it because he, too, was Jedi-Yogi.
So, if someday my hands turn to blocks, I will try to hit my one note in the perfect place, with just the right feel and volume to make it sing.