The Hofner 500/1 violin bass has been McCartney’s career-long sidekick. Let’s spotlight a 1967 model.
Paul McCartney has seemed unstoppable since he returned to touring in 2009 after a four-year break. But then … COVID. Which stopped everybody. Although not entirely. Like many others, McCartney spent his 2020 “rockdown," as he calls it, writing the songs and playing all the instruments for his new album, McCartney III.
I'm guessing that among those instruments was his beloved 1963 Hofner 500/1 violin bass—his main axe with the Beatles, and all of his work, including tours, since he took it out of mothballs for his 1989 album Flowers in the Dirt.
Just as McCartney III was coming out in December, this column's 1967 Hofner 500/1 violin bass came into the shop. And to amplify the kismet, the Beatles were playing on the sound system when the bass' now-former owner brought it in to sell.
This model wouldn't be so iconic if McCartney could've afforded a Fender back in 1961, when the Beatles were literally getting their act together playing clubs in Hamburg. But his first Hofner was only $45. That one was stolen, and in '63 Hofner gave him a replacement, which is the bass we all know and love to hear.
Pardon my grunge: The control panel—three EQ sliders and two volume dials—shows some grit and dirt, well-earned from years in smoky clubs.
The Hofner violin bass dates back to 1955, when Walter Hofner designed the prototype. The small, hollow body and violin shape made it easy to carry and play—especially in comparison to Fender's Precision. The tone aimed for qualities that would appeal to both acoustic upright bass players and the expanding electric bass market—and with flatwound strings, it did just that, creating a fat, thumpy voice the amplified the sound so familiar on pop and jazz records of the '40s, '50s, and early '60s.
Most of what's changed about the Hofner 500/1 over the decades is the electronics, while the maple body, spruce top, rosewood fretboard, and dot inlays have remained a staple. The neck and bridge pickups had many iterations in the '50s and '60s. Originally, Hofner called them wide-spaced pickups, because they were located far apart, as close to the neck and bridge as workable. By '57, the bridge pickup was moved closer to the neck, to about mid-top. And in 1960, the black bar pickups Hofner used were replaced with toaster-style examples. A year later—and on McCartney's '61—the so-called twin-coil Cavern pickups arrived, along with the replacement of the tortoiseshell pickguard with a cream pearloid version. But '62 brought another shift, to diamond logo pickups, called that because of the diamond engraved on their covers. And a year later those were gone—nudged aside by staple pickups. In 1963, two-piece necks were also used on some 500/1s, and the two-on-a-strip tuners began to be replaced by standalone versions.
Here's a close-up look at the '67s neck-slot blade-style single-coil pickup—the seventh pickup variation for the 500/1 model.
But wait! There's more! The year of our Hofner, 1967, marked the introduction of single-coil blade pickups in the 500/1. Until this point, all of the aforementioned changes did little to alter the sound of the instrument. But the blades are different—hotter and more gainy. These pickups have two magnets on each side of a center blade, and they are ceramic, not alnico like earlier Hofner pickups. Their louder, more-forward tone is perfect for recording, and takes to digital tracking and mixing very well. The control set had slight variations over the years, but in 1967 was a sleek array of two volume dials and three responsive tone switches marked rhythm, bass, and treble.
Our 500/1 has an ebony two-piece floating bridge, and the fret saddle inserts have been removed to emulate the mod supposedly made by McCartney to get a more thuddy and muted sound. (A reissue version of the original bridge assembly is available.) The tuners on this bass were replaced with closed-back Grovers, which are a lot easier to turn than the small-button versions that came standard in '67.
Beneath its elegant, curved top, our 500/1's headstock has Grover replacements for the small-button OEM tuners, which went from two-to-a-strip to standalones in 1967.
This bass has been played a lot, and it shows in the finish wear and checking on its body. Plugging in made me want to start banging out some McCartney-style bass melodies and explore those loping, rich tones that were such an important element of the Beatles' sound. In the 1967 Hofner catalog, the 500/1 was listed at $345. Our example is tagged at $2,500. I hope this very collectable bass ends up with a musician who loves the Beatles as much as I do and puts it to work for at least another half-century.
Does artificially breaking in a guitar by “exciting” it really work—at least in the manner we hope it will? And what does that have to do with cheese?
As musicians, we all know the effects of music reach far beyond just fun and entertainment, whether it's helping with depression, influencing our basic mood, bringing people together, or one of myriad other reasons.
But then there are those surprising finds. Swiss cheesemaker Beat Wampfler partnered with a research team from the Bern University of the Arts in Switzerland to improve the taste of his Emmentaler cheese. There are a lot of factors, like humidity, temperature, and nutrients during gestation, involved in the cheese's final taste and aroma.
However, the primary objective of this project was to determine whether one could taste what those wheels of cheese had been listening to during their six months of gestation. The choice of music for each wheel of cheese ranged from The Magic Flute by Mozart to Led Zeppelin's “Stairway to Heaven" on a 24/7 loop. The team also incorporated some hip-hop by A Tribe Called Quest and EDM from Vril, among other varying genres. And, of course, there was also an untreated control group.
After the aging of the music-infused cheese, the team conducted a blindfolded taste test in a standardized experimental design, performed by several specially trained food-sensory researchers. The final outcome? The experts determined the hip-hop-laced cheese came out on top, with the strongest aroma and taste. Meanwhile, the arts team learned more about the scientific field of sonochemistry, which looks at the impact of sound on chemical reactions in solid bodies and plants.
The first experiments exposing plants to music started in 1962, and the many that followed found that classical music could enhance both the growth and yield of plants. In 2004, the rather anarchistic TV show MythBusters set up a similar experiment by exposing plants to several music styles, as well as positive and negative talk. The plants apparently didn't care whether you talked nicely to them or not, just as long as you did so. In the end, heavy metal music was the victor, with the most growth.
As entertaining as these “studies" are, I hope they don't lead anyone to seriously believe any cheese or plant has any sort of musical preferences. The topic, however, shows a few similarities to musicians who believe their instruments have to be “played in" for optimal tone, or that vintage instruments are superior simply because they've been played for so many decades.
With that belief, there is, of course, a market for devices to speed up the process of breaking in basses and guitars, mainly by attaching speakers to the instrument close to the bridge. It's interesting that when devotees of the process/technology argue its merits and how it all works, they often refer to the influence of sound on plants. First and foremost, there is a huge difference between a system of living cells and a guitar's wooden body. One consists of cells transporting all kinds of fluids and nourishments—it is well known that vibration can significantly stimulate division and cell-membrane fluidity—while the other one is a dead tree, plain and simple.
One company's process suggests using white and pink noise to specifically trim it to your preferred personal sound. Pink noise covers all audible frequencies with higher amplitudes in the bass register than the equally weighed white noise. So, if you want more bass from the instrument, simply extend the exposure time to pink noise, right? But they also say the process can be even more specific if you play the music genre to the instrument you plan to ultimately use it for, and to “make it loud, but never let the signal distort." Following this logic, wouldn't that mean bad news if you plan on playing death metal? And is my instrument ruined if my band members prank me by secretly playing Wham's “Last Christmas" to my bass on a loop?
The theory behind the process is that feeding external vibrations within the resonance range reduces internal tensions, and that the applied energy remains in the material and raises even more over time. This is partially true, as all the applied vibrational energy is heating up the body, but it also implies that you can store this energy to let it drain out via the output jack once you plug in.
To me, the whole played-in idea is simply a psychological effect, where every minute spent with your instrument deepens your relationship with it. It's similar to how hugging a tree feels like reconnecting to nature for some, while the tree couldn't care less. It's not that applying vibrations to wood can't have influences on its mechanical properties. But if so, it's way more likely to be a treatment to soften the tops of acoustic instruments, which might allow for stronger movements and a more dynamic reaction to the strings. With electric solidbody basses and guitars? Not so much. That said, if you can spend the cash, feeling better might be enough of a reason to give it a try!
A look at where bass players stand on vintage instruments
Recently, I wrote a series about where I thought the vintage bass market was heading, as a hobby and as a marketplace. I received an overwhelming response from readers on the matter. Most correspondence came from forum guys, so who better to discuss this with than the forum members themselves? This series of articles could not have been done without the help of the moderators and members of Talkbass.com and Badassbassplayers.com, where I was able to post my questions and solicit responses. In this and the next issue, you will find questions asked, a summary of responses, and my “two cents” as a final comment.
Part 1. It’s all about you: the discussion participants
How many vintage basses do you own? What are they? The response to this question was surprisingly static. I expected to see everything from 3 to 30. Answers, however, fell into four distinct groups:
A) No vintage basses. The pattern of responses was: “I just don’t like old basses,” “the entire vintage bass hobby is pure crap,” or “monetary reasons keep me away from this segment.”
B) 1 vintage bass. Most of the players in this group owned a 1970s vintage Fender. For most, it was the only vintage piece they needed or desired.
C) 5 – 6 vintage basses. Players in this group were split into two segments. The first segment owned a few boutique and multi-string basses and used them primarily. The second group used the vintage stuff exclusively and just wanted the old school tone. The majority of the players here had Gibson, Fender, Musicman and Rickenbacker products, mostly from the late sixties and seventies, in their stash.
D) Serious collector types with 12 – 30 basses. For the most part, this was the Pre-CBS, T-bird and Horseshoe Ricky crowd.
I was highly encouraged to find that an overwhelming percentage of the folks in categories A, B and C did actively play in bands or ensembles. I asked this question in order to better understand the perspective of those who responded.
I gig / don’t gig with my vintage basses, and why?
This was the one question that generated a lot of passion. The players who did not own vintage basses could not understand how anyone could own one and not use it. Basses are tools, and you use your tools at your job site. The three main reasons for non-use were: 4-string basses did not fit the present situation; I’m not taking a five thousand dollar bass to a forty dollar gig; the bass is mint, and part of the 401K.
Personally, my two main basses are a ’58 Gold Guard Precision and a ’62 Candy Apple Red Jazz. I will leave these basses home if I cannot secure them at a gig. I have two or three basses that will never see gig time, but only because they are irreplaceable in terms of sentimental value. This question was asked to get a perspective on the players and their usage. It was encouraging to see most vintage bass owners regularly gigged with their vintage basses.
Over the next 12 months I plan on changing this aspect of my collection?
This question was initially asked in July and August of 2008. Gas prices were nearing $4 per gallon. Presently, the stock market is in the toilet. I asked a select group of folks the same question at the Arlington and Philly guitar shows and the answers have slightly changed. The overwhelming initial response I received was that most players were going to keep their bass stash somewhat static unless there was a trade to be made. For the first time in a very long time, many cases of Gear Acquisition Syndrome (GAS) seem to be in check. Getting to work seems more important than getting a new bass. Not surprisingly, most guys are not even thinking about changing gear until after the new year. A decent percentage of folks are hoping they do not have to sell their backup bass or downsize their main bass to get the bills paid. In years past I’ve had many chats with my player and collector friends and clients about this very topic. In 2006, a common topic was, “Do I trade my transition logo custom color P-Bass for a slab board sunburst?” That chatter never came up in this go-round. I’m sure before long we’ll have this conversation again.
The Lowdown
What can I say? I initially received about fifty emails on the series in which I shared my perspective on the vintage bass market. The forum responses and subsequent emails generated about two hundred additional replies. This tells me two things: first, bass players are passionate about their love and hobby, and second, I’m doing my job. In the next issue, I’ll explore deeply the vintage bass arena from the concerns of players to those of collectors, and the positive and negative aspects. Until next time, drop the gig bag and bring the cannolis!
Kevin Borden has been a bass player since 1975, and is currently President of Goodguysguitars.com.
Feel free to call him KeBo.
He can be reached at Kebobass@yahoo.com