Conceptualized by car designer Ray Dietrich, the original Firebirds had neck-through-body construction, fluid sculpture lines, a single-sided headstock, and special small humbucking pickups.
This month’s guitar is a variation on the Firebird III, so rare that its production number is likely in the dozens.
As Gibson was about to launch its new, simplified “non-reverse” Firebird line in 1965, they shipped a small number of “reverse” I and III models that spring and summer with some eccentric features. In his encyclopedic 1982 book, American Guitars: An Illustrated History, Tom Wheeler whimsically labeled these as “Platypus” Firebirds, due to their oddity and rarity: Some had conventional guitar tuners, rather than the banjo tuners on standard ’Birds, and tubular plastic-tipped vibrato arms, rather than so-called “spoon handle” vibratos. So, naturally, I was intrigued. The subject of this month’s column is one of those rare ’Birds that I scored at the 1993 Great American Guitar Show in Philadelphia.
Being experienced with Gibson’s Thunderbird basses, this Firebird III felt like the right fit immediately and became an instant go-to recording and stage guitar for me. The wide-but-fast neck is superb, the neck-through construction feels more solid than any SG I’ve played, and the pickups nail the perfect blend of Fender bite and Gibson warmth. As a bonus, switching between this Firebird III and a Fender feels more natural than with other-numbered ’Birds.
The Firebird was conceived in 1962–’63, when Gibson president Ted McCarty hired automotive designer Ray Dietrich to come up with a concept to compete with Fender. Nearly everything about this model was new for Gibson: neck-through-body construction, fluid sculpture lines, a single-sided headstock, and special small humbucking pickups. Like the earlier Explorer, Firebirds “reverse” the Fender-style solidbody, with an extended bout below the neck intended more for visual flash than ergonomics. Dietrich even designed a nifty Firebird logo for the pickguard. This distinctive but unconventional instrument required extra factory effort, and quickly proved difficult to build cost-effectively, so Firebirds had to be priced above the SG series, and, more crucially, the Fenders they were intended to compete with.
“The neck-through construction feels more solid than any SG I’ve played, and the pickups nail the perfect blend of Fender bite and Gibson warmth.”
Like Les Pauls and SGs, there were four models of Firebirds, designated by Roman numerals I, III, V, and VII. (Thunderbirds were given numerals II and IV.) Each had a unique neck trim and/or pickup array. Gibson expected the cheapest model to be the best seller, but the Firebird I’s (priced at $215) single pickup and lack of a vibrato arm looked barren by early ’60s aesthetics, while the Firebird III (priced at $280), with two pickups and a vibrato, racked up the strongest sales. The flashier V, with trapezoid inlays and a Tune-o-matic bridge, cost $360, while the gold-plated, 3-pickup VII, priced at $500, was beyond any garage-band budget. Gibson’s oblong, yellow-lined case added another $42.
By late 1964, not only were Firebirds not selling as expected, but warranty repair was another problem. The heavy banjo tuners made their angled headstocks prone to breakage. Gibson decided to revamp the line with a more conventional design, later dubbed “non-reverse,” for the mid-1965 NAMM show. In the meantime, some I and III models were put together with evolved features to clear inventory of neck-body sections (the non-reverse line would have a glued-in neck). My III is one of those instruments. There was also a Firebird I with twin P-90 pickups, a flat headstock, and conventional tuners.
This single-sided headstock design was new to Gibson in the early ’60s.
Photo by George Aslaender
This Firebird III’s headstock has a carved ledge on the face and banjo tuners like earlier ’Birds, but is reversed, with the low E closest to the nut. (The original design made the high E closest to the nut.) Theories on why this was done range from addressing customer or dealer complaints to using up left-handed neck blanks that were prepared but never ordered. Whatever the reason, it resulted in what some find the most player-friendly of the reverse Firebirds, given the familiar string positioning. Another small oddity is the fancier, plastic-tipped, flat vibrato arm, usually found on higher-end guitars instead of the “spoon handles” used on earlier IIIs.
The other features remain unchanged: a multi-laminate, neck-through center section with mahogany wings glued to the sides, a bound, dot-inlaid neck with a 1 11/16" nut, and two mini-humbuckers mounted in metal surrounds with 4-knob, single-switch wiring. There are two forward strap buttons, one on the neck heel and a second on the upper bout, perfectly placed for the strap to slip off and send the guitar floorward. The laminated white pickguard bears the spiffy bird emblem.
It’s estimated that just over 1,000 Firebird III’s were shipped in 1965, but the proportion of reverse, non-reverse, and “Platypus” is unknown, as all were logged identically. While the exact number is lost, the number of Platypuses produced is in the dozens rather than hundreds, and today, they’re worth $15,000 to $20,000. From 1965 to ’66, Brian Jones was the most visible Firebird user, and Johnny Winter, Stephen Stills, Allen Collins, and Phil Manzanera all rocked them in the ’70s. “Reverse” Firebirds did end up returning to Gibson’s line in the ’70s, but this oddity has never been reissued.Name: Rog and Ed Rowan
Hometown: Belfast, Ireland
Guitar: Woodie
Uncle Ed makes a meaningful guitar for his nephew, Rog, incorporating special woods from local trees and buildings in their Irish community.
Woodie was born during lockdown when my Uncle Ed combined a number of very special woods into one guitar. I’d never thought about how a guitar was made before, so it was a real combination of my “guitarist ideas,” and Ed’s ingenuity and patience. That, combined with a worldwide pandemic and time to try something new.
Ed gave me free rein to choose any design I wanted. This is a daunting proposition, so I did my research and decided on the “tone” that Ed kept talking about. All my other electric guitars have a whammy bar, so I thought it might be interesting to not have one. I knew I’d miss the dive bends and the portamento, but I’d been reading about Vivian Campbell’s vibrato, and I’d tried a Malmsteen Strat in a guitar shop. So, I asked Ed if he would go down the thicker tone route and scallop all the frets so I could still get lots of bend out of any note. I asked for a kill switch so I could try out some rhythmic things.
The woods used in this build are a mixture of reclaimed tropical and locally sourced hardwoods. The most personal wood is from a chestnut tree that my father planted when I was born (it is full-size now). The neck is made from a holly tree from where I grew up in Ireland. Irish guitarist Pat McManus was an early inspiration as he lived close by. Ed made the body from a piece of mahogany that a friend gave him about 10 years ago. He knew it was from a significant building in Belfast but couldn’t remember where. Turns out, the mahogany came from the old reception desk in Belfast City Hospital ... this was the hospital I was born in! There is also a little bit of rowan wood on the back: Rowan is Ed’s surname. Obviously, I named this guitar “Woodie.”
The scalloped frets took a little time to get used to, especially when keeping barre chords in tune—you’ve got to keep a light touch. I’ve settled on Ernie Ball .010s and use thick picks made of wood or bone. My other guitars are D- and C-shaped necks, but Woodie could be described as a U-shaped neck—it’s seriously thick. It took some time, but my fingers became much stronger and there is so much tone.
Rog Rowan's uncle, Ed, contemplates the task at hand.
The hardware switches and electrical components were procured from various U.K. and Irish suppliers:
• Tune-o-matic bridge and tailpiece
• Kluson machine heads
• Japanese nickel alloy fret wire
• Double humbucker pickups
• Logarithmic potentiometers (500k log pots)
• Orange drop capacitors (.022 µF)
• Tesi gold kill switch
• 3-way pickup selector switch
• Jack plug socket and cover
• Double-action truss rod
• Oversized brass strap buttons
• Australian abalone shell fretboard side markers
• Vintage braided cloth 22awg wiring
To thank him for his beautiful work, I bought Uncle Ed an Appalachian dulcimer and posh whiskey! PG
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Fig. 1: This 1960 Gibson Les Paul Classic model needs a new Tune-o-matic bridge.
No matter what style Tune-o-matic your guitar has, it’s important to regularly inspect the bridge for wear. Eventually, you may need to replace it.
Tune-o-matic bridges are common on many guitars, including Gibson Les Paul, SG, and Firebird models. They come in several styles and shapes, depending on the guitar. Some Tune-o-matics have a retaining wire (the vintage ABR-1, for example), others have self-contained saddles like the Nashville Tune-o-matic. No matter what style Tune-o-matic your guitar has, it's important to regularly inspect the bridge for wear. Eventually, you may need to replace it—we'll see why in a moment.
It's not hard to install a Tune-o-matic, if you know what's required and how to avoid a few pitfalls. Let's explore these points, using a 1960 Gibson Les Paul Classic model (Fig. 1) as our project guitar. Note: These techniques apply to any guitar equipped with a Tune-o-matic-style bridge.
Getting started.
The first step in any repair or upgrade is to evaluate the guitar. As part of this process, I always measure the action at the 12th fret, the neck relief, the action at the 1st fret, and also check the intonation.
From this preliminary evaluation I discovered that the action at the 12th fret on this Les Paul was 4/64" on the 1st string, 3/64" for the 3rd and 4th strings, and 5/64" for the 6th string. This is high action! In addition, the 3rd and 4th strings were much lower than the rest. This was caused by a bad case of what I call "smiling bridge syndrome." That's where the bridge begins to warp between the adjustment posts. (For more details, see the sidebar at the end of this article.)
The best way to correct this problem? Replace the bridge.
Installing the new Tune-o-matic.
For this Les Paul, I chose a Schaller Nashville Tunematic—a high-quality bridge that should last longer than the typical replacement units. When replacing a Tune-o-matic-style bridge, you need to consider several critical variables: string spacing, string angle, and the slot width.
String spacing is the distance between the strings in relation to the fretboard. This is critical: When the strings aren't aligned properly, one of the E strings can slip off the fretboard or the pickup may produce uneven string-to-string volume. At the very least, playability will suffer.
String angle describes the path each string follows from the tailpiece to the top of the bridge saddles. If this angle is not carved properly in the backside of the saddle, strings can break and you may have problems keeping the guitar in tune.
The width of the slots in each saddle is also very important. Each slot carved into the saddles should precisely match the gauge of its respective string. When a slot is too narrow, the string will bind, causing tuning problems and string breakage. When the slot is too wide, the string can rattle, buzz, and slide sideways when you bend notes.
Here's how I determine the proper spacing, angle, and slot width for each string and saddle: First I remove the old bridge, install the new one, tune the guitar, and adjust the string height at the 12th-fret roughly where my client wants it. For this guitar, that was 3/64" for the 1st string and 4/64" for the 6th string.
Fig. 2: Measuring the space between the edge of the fretboard and the two outside strings.
Next I measure the distance at the last fret from the edge of the fretboard to the outside edge of the 1st and 6th strings (Fig. 2). It's important that both strings are the same distance from the edge of the fretboard—approximately 1/8" in is a good starting point. Each guitar will vary slightly, depending on the width of its neck, but the key is equal spacing from the outside edge of the string to the edge of the fretboard. Again, this applies to both strings.
Fig. 3: Gauged nut files, which are available from luthier supply shops, are ideal for cutting the string slots in new saddles.
To seat the 1st and 6th strings, I then carve a very shallow slot into their saddles. I use nut files for this (Fig. 3)—a .010" file for the 1st saddle and a .046" for the 6th.
Fig. 4: Measuring the space between the edges of adjacent strings. The distance should be identical between all strings, so don't measure from the center of each string, as this will result in the bass strings being closer together than the treble strings.
Once the outside strings are set, I position the inside four strings over the unslotted saddles until the strings are equidistantly spaced, measuring from the outside edge of each adjacent string. These five gaps will be approximately 25/64" (Fig. 4). Do not measure from the center of each string, as this will result in the bass strings being closer together than the treble strings.
After I've measured the spacing—and double-checked it with a ruler—I cut a shallow slot into each saddle using nut files that match the gauge of each string.
Caution: If you're unsure about filing the string slots, consult a qualified tech or luthier. If you make a mistake with the slots, you may have to start over with a new Tune-o-matic or at least new saddles.
Fig. 5: Set the tailpiece height so no strings rest against the rear of the bridge frame. The only point of contact for each string should be the top of its respective saddle.
Pay close attention to the angle of each string in relation to the tailpiece. The tailpiece should be adjusted so the strings never touch the rear edge of the Tune-o-matic. Contact here can cause tuning problems, so all the strings need to clear the bridge frame (Fig. 5).
Fig. 6: File the saddle slots to allow each string to follow its natural angle to the tailpiece.
When the tailpiece is adjusted, I finish filing the string slots. This involves carefully sloping down the back of the slots to allow each string to follow its natural angle as it emerges from the tailpiece to the point where it contacts the saddle (Fig. 6).
Adjusting intonation.
The final step is to intonate the guitar by moving the new saddles forward or backward in the bridge to shorten or lengthen the vibrating portion of the string. The saddle-intonation adjustment screw is located at the rear of the bridge, and the idea is to move each saddle forward (by turning the screw counterclockwise) or backward (clockwise) using a small screwdriver. (Typically it's a Phillips or flathead, depending on the make and model of the bridge.)
Here's how to set the intonation:
- Using a high-quality electronic tuner, bring each string to pitch. But instead of playing an open string and tuning it, strike the 12th-fret harmonic and tune it to pitch.
- Starting with the 1st string, play the 12th-fret harmonic and then fret and pluck the same note. If the fretted note is sharp compared to the harmonic, move the saddle away from the neck. Conversely, if the fretted note is flat, move the saddle toward the neck. Make small adjustments and retune the harmonic each time you make an adjustment. Continue comparing the 12th-fret note to its reference harmonic until the former matches the latter.
- Repeat this process until all the 12th-fret notes on all six strings match their corresponding 12th-fret harmonics.
Once the strings are intonated and you've confirmed they're spaced, seated, and angled correctly, you're good to go with your new Tune-o-matic.
Smiling Bridge Syndrome
Fig. 7: See the gap in the middle of the bridge between the ruler and frame? Years of string pressure have caused this bridge to collapse, dropping the middle strings lower than the outside strings.
The last thing you want to see is your Tune-o-matic smiling ... as if to mock you! When this happens, it means the bridge has collapsed, causing the action of the middle strings to drop lower than the outside strings. Many Tune-o-matic-style bridges are made of zinc—a metal that's softer than steel—and years of downward string pressure can destroy the bridge's built-in radius that's designed to match your fretboard.
You can check this with a 6" machinist's metal ruler. Fig. 7 shows the original, collapsed Les Paul bridge, and the large gap between the ruler and the top of the bridge frame reveals the problem.
Fig. 8: This new bridge has no gap. Once it's installed, the Les Paul will be playable again.
Notice how the ruler lies flat against the top of the new replacement bridge (Fig. 8).
[Updated 10/22/21]