With a bit of old-fashioned elbow grease, this Kay model, sold in the early to mid ’60s, can be turned into a viable playin’ machine.
When I was a kid, there were so many World War II veterans in my neighborhood. All these old-timers had pretty impressive sets of skills, and whenever you needed some work done, all you had to do was walk down the street and ask. My own grandfather was a welder, my neighbor was a woodworker, and two houses down, there was a plumber. These guys were all blue-collar vets who worked in local quarries, mills, and factories. I was, and still am, amazed by their technical prowess and knowledge. My granddad could fix just about anything!
While thinking back about those guys, my mind started wandering to Old Kraftsman guitars. Now, don’t confuse these with Custom Kraft guitars, made by Valco. Old Kraftsman guitars were built at the Kay factory in Chicago and sold through Spiegel catalogs back in the day. Often we think of Fender and Gibson as the big guitar manufacturers, but back in the 1960s, the guitar kings were Kay and Harmony, each producing guitars in Chicago. Both companies were well-established and, for many decades, made the go-to affordable guitars—until the less expensive Japanese guitars basically drove them out of business.
Kay catalogs are a glorious sight because they offered everything you’d need in stringed instruments. They had everything, from hollowbodies to acoustics to banjos to mandolins to basses. At every price point, too! In 1960, Kay guitars started offering affordable thinline electrics, dubbed “Value Kings.” Ranging in price from $69.95 to $169.50, these guitars were a nice choice for players just getting into the electric guitar sound that was gripping American teens. Then, there was a totally gonzo guitar in the 1960 catalog called the Solo King, or K4102. The Solo King has a crazy body shape that resembles a large, cursive “D,” and in it, you can kind of see the contours of another Kay model, the Vanguard, or K102. The subject of this month’s column, the Vanguard replaced the Solo King (a guitar I would love to own) in 1961.
The Vanguard first appeared in that year’s Kay catalog and lasted until 1965. The 2-pickup model you see here sold for $79.95, but from Spiegel catalogs. The only difference between this one and the one from the Kay catalog is the headstock shape. Otherwise the guitars are identical, featuring some nice DeArmond-made “pancake” pickups, two volumes, two tones, and a contour design that is slightly offset. The edges, unlike the smooth contours of Fender, are squared off and a bit chunky, as is the neck profile.
“Just like my old neighbors’ approach, if you put in a little work, then the Vanguard has some potential.”
The vibrato seen here was a popular model for Kay guitars and didn’t really work too well. The Japanese builders copied this same vibrato but with worse results! The things I mostly dislike about old Kay guitars are the frets, which are often brass and just don’t stand the test of time. But just like my old neighbors’ approach, if you put in a little work, then the Vanguard has some potential. For instance, the pickups are riveted onto the pickguard and are non-adjustable. But if you pop out those rivets and put some spacers under each pickup, you can get a roaring good sound that can drive a small tube amp in a quite lovely way. Also, the neck angle is often bad on these Vanguards, but if you cut up some old playing cards or credit cards then you can shim the necks to get a better angle. It’s all about the strings breaking over the bridge properly, folks! These Vanguards are still relatively affordable and have tones you can’t find anywhere else.
In 1966, the Vanguards were redesigned and no longer featured these awesome pickups. Sure, there were more colors and a headstock that resembled a dragon snout, but the Old Kraftsman Vanguard that I loved was gone. Soon afterwards, Kay started using imported Japanese parts and pickups to try and compete from a price point, and then simply ceased much of its production in favor of selling Japanese imports.
1965 Old Kraftsman (Kay Vanguard) Demo
Dirk Wacker shares what the last six months have been like for him and his guitar-tech business in Germany.
Hello and welcome back to Mod Garage. This month's column is a very special one for me. Since I started writing for Premier Guitar back in 2005 (heck, it's really 15 years now), it's the first time I'm writing something personal instead of talking about mods and technical stuff. But don't worry, I won't get political or bore you with another COVID-19 complaint. Lay down your soldering iron and relax, and next month we'll get back to business as usual.
I'm happy to say that I receive a lot of emails from readers all over the world, with all kinds of suggestions, questions, comments, and the like. Much of this correspondence was the reason for columns in the past and will also inspire topics for future columns. Soon after the lockdown, I noticed the tenor of many emails changed from guitar-related stuff to more personal inquiries, like how the pandemic situation in Europe and especially inside Germany is, if everyone at the shop is well, etc. I also received messages with questions like: How is it going inside the workshop? What do I have on my desk? What am I doing during lockdown? After discussing this with my editor, we decided I should write about it. So, here is my personal COVID-19 experience.
I never thought something like the pandemic could really happen in our modern world, so in early February we still made plans for the Musikmesse trade fair in Frankfurt, Germany, in April. I also saw no reason to cancel my stay in Switzerland for the middle of March. I have to ask myself now, in retrospect, how could someone be so careless and ignorant? I will never forget the conversation between two friends and myself, talking about the Musikmesse show. One of them wondered what we should do because traditionally there are many Asian exhibitors there, and in early February COVID-19 still seemed to be a problem only affecting China. My other friend and I didn't waste any thought about this, being sure that in three months the problem would be solved … how wrong we were!
Unsuspecting as I was, I booked our tickets for Musikmesse, including railroad tickets. I also went to Switzerland in March to visit some friends to go hiking and mountaineering. On March 16, the lockdown hit me like a hammer when Switzerland closed all borders. Within a New York minute, I was stranded in a foreign country that isn't a member of the European Union. It took me some time and effort to leave Switzerland, but thankfully I have friends there, so I had a roof over my head and no bigger problems of any kind. Lesson learned!
Being back in Germany, I had to face that COVID-19 was definitely not just Asia's problem and that it would affect all facets of life in Germany. Shops, bars, clubs, restaurants, schools, universities, cinemas, theaters, gyms, barbers, churches, and all stages closed. Most companies established reduced working times, countless people had to work from home, public authorities closed their doors, and every day there were new COVID-19 calamities on all news channels.
The situation in Germany was strange, at least for me. Suddenly everyone had to wear a face mask, most stores had closed, people started to hoard toilet paper and yeast, for weeks you couldn't see anyone on the streets, traffic was reduced to almost empty streets even on the highways, and for weeks I hadn't seen a single jet trail in the blue and sunny sky. Within a few weeks, guitar project orders went down to almost zero, which wasn't a real problem because it gave us time to work on everything that was still in the workshop on a waiting list. After this was done and the workshop was empty, I started to make plans on how to keep myself busy: spending more time with the dog and the two horses, doing extended rides with them in the woods, restoring some old vintage wristwatches—something I really love to do when I have time for it. I decided to take additional shifts as a volunteer paramedic in the EMS of my neighbor county, something I also really love to do. I made plans to watch all episodes of Star Trek: Picard on Netflix again, read some new crime thrillers, and to do some aesthetic repairs in the shop and in the house.
I was sure there would be no boredom in any way, and this time I was totally right, but in a very different way than I thought. Before I could even dismantle the first watch to see what the problem was, guitar jobs suddenly went from zero to over the top. We began receiving several guitars each day to repair, to restore, or to modify, and within two weeks our storage area was more than filled with guitars, waiting for their treatment.
After thinking about this and talking to some customers it was clear what caused this new situation: Everyone had unexpected time on their hands now and virtually no one really needed all of their guitars because it was impossible to gig, rehearse, or play, and no teacher could give any guitar lessons. So why not send in guitars that need work done that was long overdue? Instead of restoring vintage watches, I found myself restoring vintage guitars—also something I really love to do. Suddenly we had plenty of work and still do, now operating with a waiting list. The DIY caucus also had some time on their hands, and we received lots of parts orders again, and much more than ever before. But this was a real problem for our international customers. While shipping inside Germany and most other European countries was no real problem, DHL immediately raised prices on deliveries abroad. We always choose the best, fastest, and cheapest way of shipping parts to any country. Normally sending some parts like pots, caps, wires, hardware, etc. to the U.S. is around $14, including insurance and online tracking. Suddenly the cheapest (!) way to send anything out to the U.S. with DHL was $64.
This lasted from early April until September, and then DHL switched from shipping by plane to sea cargo, so shipping times raised from the usual 6-8 days up to six weeks and longer, for the same price as before.
I was surprised again by orders from a lot of international customers, many of them being first-time buyers. Usually people expect their parts to be shipped out immediately. Most customers were not keen on paying $64 for shipping on some parts that cost less than half of that, and most of them were totally relaxed about the situation and agreed that we should send out their parts when shipping prices returned to normal. I think the worldwide pandemic slowed down most of us to a certain degree, but I was really honored that so many people trusted us in such a way. Our storage room started to fill up with packages that couldn't be shipped yet. For weeks we were creative in storing away and piling shipping boxes, but this “Guitar Parts Tetris" game couldn't last. At the end of August, we had to face that we were out of storage room. Since some of the orders were from late March, we decided to look for an alternative shipping solution, and UPS offered us a very fair deal if we shipped out all the boxes at the same time. We took the lemon and pulled the trigger, and within 10 days all orders reached their destination without any problems.
As I write this, we're in the middle of what's being called a “second wave" over here, with rising COVID-19 infections daily. DHL is offering shipping with extended arrival times, but for a reasonable price again, our guitar storage room is staying full, and our local DHL driver is going in and out several times a day.
So, is everything bad about the pandemic? Mostly yes. But it was a good lesson for many people to slow down in such a way to be able to think about the important things in life. My impression is that humanity and good will are more natural again. I hope you could get a little insight into the situation over here. Please stay well and mighty, and we will try and do the same.
Next month we'll discuss what I like to call “Alien Tasks in Lutherie," which refers to a typical task where two arms and two hands are not enough. This time it's about installing humbuckers in a plastic frame or a pickguard, so stay tuned.
Until then ... keep on modding!
The Mod Garage guitar-aging series continues. Try these easy steps to get a vintage look on your plastic tuners.
Image 1 — Courtesy of singlecoil.com
Hello and welcome back to Mod Garage. Today we'll work on the plastic buttons of the tuners, and, after this, they'll be finished. In September's “DIY: Relic'ing Tuners, Part 1," we slightly sanded them to break the new factory shine, which was an important step to relic them. Not all vintage tuner plastic buttons show the same overall appearance: some are dull while others are shiny, and some show discoloration while others don't. This has a lot to do with the plastic material used for the buttons and, of course, how the guitar was stored and used though the years. We'll try to mimic a typical pattern of wear, dirt, and use to make them look old, and you can decide if you want them shiny or not during the process.
It's also the first time we have a sidebar from a pro ager, so a big shout-out to Andy Nowak from CrazyParts for taking time to offer expertise on relic'ing different materials. We'll have more advice from pro agers throughout this series. The next installment is about how to make wood look old and used.
To start, remember that two different tuners are used on this model of guitar, depending on what factory it's coming from. Both versions are technically equal, but the Wilkinson tuners sport shiny white buttons while the Kluson versions have a shiny, creamy color to mimic some discoloration. Today, we won't cover how to get discoloration on the shiny white buttons. We will cover this in a follow-up in this series. As an introduction, please read the sidebar from Nowak regarding different plastic materials. If you have the white version of the tuner buttons and want some discoloration, please be patient and don't put them into coffee or tea for days. We'll address relic'ing white plastic parts in a later column.
Have a look at Image 1, which shows pics I collected over the years while restoring vintage guitars, showing exactly the tuner buttons we have on this guitar. You can clearly see the discoloration ranges from none to cream, and that some are dull while others have a greasy shine. They all have some marks from getting bumped or whatever, and some dirt build-up, especially inside the marks and at the seam where the two halves of the buttons are molded together. This is exactly what we'll do now, and you don't need much for this: disposable gloves, dry paper towels, a small cotton rag (old T-shirts work great), a fine scribe tool (tracing scribe) or a nail, needle, etc., some Q-Tips or cotton swabs, brown shoe polish (I prefer Kiwi brown, simply because it's the best and I use it for my brown genuine leather stuff anyway), car polish or toothpaste, naphta, and some dirt or dust. I use a mixture of the contents from my vacuum cleaner bag spiced up with some ashes from my open fireplace (mostly from beech wood).
Image 2 — Courtesy of singlecoil.com
To start, use your scribe tool or a sharp nail, needle, etc. and put some marks on the buttons as seen in Image 2.
The three golden rules for success in this step are:
#1: Don't heat up the tool you're using; we want marks and not burns.
#2: Don't overdo it. Less is more and looks more authentic.
#3: Use a random pattern so every button looks different.
Take care when working with a scribe, as they are really sharp and you don't want to stab your hand with it. Wear leather gloves to protect your hand and always work away from yourself, never towards you.
Clean the buttons with some naphta, especially the marks you've created. If you decide you want the tuners shiny, giving them a particular greasy look, you should now buff the buttons to the degree you like. You can use any car polish and a cotton rag for this, or simply any toothpaste you find. If you put too much shine on them, don't worry; just use fine sandpaper and sand it down to start from scratch. After you're done, clean the buttons with naphta.
Image 3 — Courtesy of singlecoil.com
Now put on your gloves, put some brown shoe polish on a cotton swab, and work the shoe polish into the buttons, focusing on the marks you created and on the seam (Image 3). Massage it in for a while so the whole button is covered, and let it dry.
Image 4 — Courtesy of singlecoil.com
Wipe off the shoe polish using a dry paper towel. You'll see that the seam and the marks you have created show some “dirt" now (Image 4). To further enhance this impression, use dirt or dust and rub it with some pressure into the tuner buttons using your fingers, especially where the marks and the seam are. Let it sit for a while and wipe off the excess with a dry paper towel. There you have it!
Image 5 — Courtesy of singlecoil.com
Check the finished result in Image 5, and the before and after tuners side by side in Image 6. Now compare these with the vintage tuner buttons in Image 1. I think we're really close, aren't we? If you're not satisfied, you can repeat these steps as needed.
Image 6 — Courtesy of singlecoil.com
This is just one way of doing this: It's easy, doesn't require a lot of tools, and isn't dangerous. If you want to share your method, please do in the comments section on PG's website.
Next month, we'll put down the soldering iron and relic'ing materials and I'll share my own quarantine projects and experiences during COVID-19. A lot of readers have asked me to, and this will be my first time in 15 years to write something personal in this space instead of the usual technical instruction.
Until then ... keep on modding!
Advice on Authentic Guitar Aging from CrazyParts' Andreas Nowak
CrazyParts was the first company in Europe offering aged guitar parts. Founded in 1993 as “Eezee Guitar" and renamed CrazyParts in 2003, the company is family operated by Andreas Nowak and his wife, Barbara. Customers include Joe Bonamassa, Billy Gibbons, and Bernie Marsden, to name a few.
The most important thing I can tell you about guitar aging: The basic material is what really matters and determines if the result will be good or not. For plastics, it's important if it's ABS (acrylonitrile butadiene styrene), nylon, CAB (cellulose acetate butyrate), celluloid, or any similar material. When it comes to metal hardware, it's first and foremost the alloy that matters and, of course, the plating. For guitar paint jobs, it's the type of lacquer and how it's built up.
When the necessary conditions for a good aging job don't apply, the result will be poor or it simply won't work. I've smashed hundreds of metal parts while trying to age them, simply because the alloy reacted in a different way than supposed. As an example, approximately 90 percent of all guitar hardware today is copper plated, which is a bad base for good aging results. Copperless-plated hardware is the way to go, but, often enough, even the manufacturer can't answer the question about which alloy was used. Another example is the PVD-coating procedure that some companies are using for plating their metal pickup covers. This is a copper-plating method that compensates irregularities of the surface while polishing. So not all nickel covers are real nickel-plated covers, but PVD coating that only looks like nickel. Needless to say, aging results are difficult to predict and it can influence guitar sound as well.
Most plastic replica parts are made of ABS and it's close to impossible to get a vintage-looking discoloration with these parts because it doesn't absorb anything. Forget about the urban legends with tea and coffee. This simply won't work with ABS, even if you soak it for years. This works best with nylon, CAB, and celluloid, but these parts aren't easy to find and plain tea or coffee won't work very well.
Another reason for non-authentic aged parts is over-aging. It's all about the details and not the more, the merrier. You can find a lot of parts that are simply scratched, rusty, and damaged. That's not the way vintage parts usually look.
The main formula to success is the basic material plus the post-processing: If one of these factors is bad inside this chain, the whole thing will be bad, not authentic, and sometimes even inoperable. —Andreas Nowak