The body is all-important, but we can’t discount the importance of the neck, too.
In my past several columns, I’ve talked about the importance of the soundboard and how its coupled components profoundly affect the performance of an instrument. Even though it’s true that a guitar’s soundboard system is ultimately the gatekeeper to great tone, there are about 17 separate points of coupling (glue joints and components) on an acoustic guitar, and each has a place in forming the sound of the instrument.
One component that can be overlooked, or, should I say, underdeveloped, is the guitar’s neck, and I’m not just talking about how it plays. I’m referring to the structure of the neck itself. A stiff neck is key to promoting high-end and sustain, but far too many instruments have weak necks due to low-quality materials and poor construction methods.
One prime component of a quality neck is the truss-rod system, which could be one of three styles: the static truss (non-adjustable), the single-action adjustable, or the double-action adjustable.
The first adjustable truss rod I encountered was with early 1900s Gibson instruments. The backbone to this system was a single-action carriage bolt with a brass nut and half-washer, all accessible under a cover on the peghead. When the nut was tightened, the truss rod counteracted the string tension, and when loosened the opposite would happen. Some people view this access pocket as a design flaw which could cause the peghead to break prematurely, but I have owned many Gibsons over the past 40 years and have never broken one of them. Furthermore, I have seen many more pegheads break on electrics than acoustics, so it’s most likely that electric players just tend to break their guitars more. For an adjustable system, these were pretty hard to beat, so I give the Gibson-style single-action truss rod a thumbs-up.
Sometime in the ’80s, the double-action truss rod appeared—primarily in the custom- and boutique-guitar market. This innovation had a right- and left-handed thread on the same rod. When turned one direction, it would add relief, and when turned the other, it added back-bow. Even though this style of truss rod was very effective, it did have quirks. The adjustment nut was welded on, which created a weak spot that would break if used incorrectly. And the fact that some double-action rods worked backwards from standard systems only added to the confusion.
A stiff neck is key to promoting high-end and sustain.
Finally, let’s take a look at the non-adjustable, static truss system that was used on some of the most iconic acoustic guitars ever made. The earliest versions were simply 3/32" x 3/8" sections of steel glued in place. They did a pretty good job, but it wasn’t until Martin introduced the T-bar (Photo 1) that static systems were perfected. The T-bar was incredibly rigid and added weight, which in turn helped drive an acoustic guitar’s body.
The only drawback (if you could call it that) was that it couldn’t be adjusted, but it’s been my experience that T-bars are so rigid they never need to be adjusted. For this reason, and others, I give Martin T-bars a big thumbs-up as well. What’s the interesting twist to all this? Many builders today blend the best of both worlds by adding stabilizing rigidity bars on both sides of an adjustable truss rod. Steel and graphite are the most common choices, but in my shop, we choose the steel option to add weight that mimics the mass of a vintage Martin T-bar.
Structurally, the truss rod plays a major role in the integrity and quality of a neck’s design. When done right, it adds stability and playability, but at its worst it will cause a lot of problems that can rob an instrument of its high end and sustain. In some cases, sympathetic vibrations caused by poorly installed systems can be activated by certain notes on the neck, which will cause a guitar to have one or more dead spots, or just flat-out rattle.
Dead spots or rattles are most common with double-action systems, and while this issue can be easily fixed by simply turning the truss rod until it becomes slightly activated, most players and technicians don’t understand what’s happening. And the issue will go on for years.
All of the systems I’ve mentioned are good options, but if you own a guitar with an adjustable truss-rod system, just be sure you know its limitations, and your own. Most technicians are more than happy to guide you through the steps of properly adjusting a truss rod so you can become familiar with the process. I strongly encourage you to take this route, because breaking a truss rod not only disables your guitar, it’s an incredibly expensive repair.
Analyzing instruments in the lab can yield intriguing data, but when it comes to real-world choices, your ears should have the final say.
In my previous column, we looked at a study that analyzed measurements taken from a simplified instrument that went through an unusual transformation from neck-through to bolt-on and, finally, set-neck design. (If you missed it, you can read the column here.) The study found few tonal differences and almost none in sustain, so it concluded that “although limited in scope, this study does suggest that correlation between sustain and neck joint type may not be of practical significance.”
Case closed? Not really, according to another study by a team of scientists at the French Acoustic Society (Société Francaise d’Acoustique). They took an alternative path and tested three identical instruments with different neck joints—neck-through, set-neck, and bolt-on.
Before you say there’s no such thing as “identical instruments,” consider this: The instruments were built in the same European luthier-training center and had the same hardware. Of course, there’s a difference between “the same” and “identical” when it comes to possible disparities in woods, hardware, and setup. Still, once you are aware of this, and build and adjust with care, the variations should be small.
Fig. 2 — Set-neck spectrogram. Spectrograms courtesy of Société Francaise d’Acoustique
The measurements included 3-D spectrograms of each model, rendered with the signal taken directly from the electric output while the same note was played. Fig. 1 shows the spectrogram for a neck-through, Fig. 2 is for the set-neck, and Fig. 3 corresponds to the bolt-on joint. Spectrograms include a lot of information, but they’re easy to read. These graphs plot volume and frequency versus time, and they show a sustaining note that’s split into its decaying fundamental and upper harmonics.
As always, these graphs don’t tell us whether these three instruments have good tone—just that they are different. In the graphs, we can see the long sustaining fundamental and first harmonics of the neck-through, the faster decaying and bumpy fundamental of the set-neck, and the even shorter sustaining fundamental and longer first harmonics of the bolt-on build. So the spectrograms pretty much confirm the tonal preconceptions most bassist have about these three constructions.
These scientists conducted a second experiment on “driving-point conductance,” which is a way to measure mechanical energy transfers between structures. Whenever such a transfer happens, it sucks up vibrational energy at a certain frequency from the string. A big transfer at the fundamental frequency would indicate a dead spot. The measurement is much like the tap-tuning many luthiers do on wooden blanks, only it’s done on a full instrument and is less esoteric. A hammer knocks on a certain part of the fretboard and the mechanical response in frequency and amplitude is measured. Doing this for all notes gives you a full sonic map of an instrument, and it helps explain the earlier spectrograms.
Fig. 3 — Bolt-on spectrogram. Spectrograms courtesy of Société Francaise d’Acoustique
So now that we’ve seen this data, should we all head for neck-through instruments? After all, you’d think many bassists might be interested in a long decay of the fundamentals because supplying these tones is part of our primary job. Shouldn’t fundamentals always remain present as long as possible?
Sustain is often cited as a quality factor by players and builders, but the popularity of instruments like the P-bass somehow contradicts this notion. In fact, the results of the driving-point conductance test might indicate why this type of bass is often plagued by dead spots. But again, in no way does this signify good or bad tone.
Fortunately, the researchers had 22 musicians subjectively evaluate the instruments in their own words and rate them in such categories as “clarity,” “timbre,” and “depth.” In addition to having problems understanding what we musos might mean when describing an instrument’s sound and how this translates into physical terms, the researchers encountered something surprising: The top ranking was led by the bolt-on with the neck-through falling into the middle ranking most of the time. In other words, many players preferred the bolt-on’s imperfect liveliness over the evenly sustaining neck-through. Another surprise for the authors was how rarely the term sustain was mentioned, especially considering its prominence in marketing and discussions about bass design.
You can read the entire paper online, using its title as a search term: “A vibro-acoustical and perceptive study of the neck-to-body junction of a solid-body electric guitar” by A. Paté, J. L. Le Carrou, B. Navarret, D. Dubois, and B. Fabre.