Paul Reed Smith’s personal guitar, which he often lets audience members play at his clinics.
They had to buy the tuning pegs and install them; cut a nut; cut fret slots and fret the guitar; maybe put a truss rod in; carve the neck; make a body; finish the guitar (including spraying a sunburst); install a bridge, pickups, pickguard, and electronics; put strings on it; set the guitar up, and … oh yeah … include a case. What I thought at the time was, “Why don’t you just do it all well?” It wouldn’t be that much harder to do, and the instrument would be something you could play a concert on.
I also found out some time in the late ’80s that the market gives you permission for a product. By my definition, “permission from the market” means that, in general, the product is selling and customers are quite pleased with their purchase. I remember the tradeshow where Audio-Technica released the M50 headphone, and almost immediately it was given permission by the market. It is now an industry standard. Another good example from that period was that the market gave permission to ADATs (which were early digital recorders) and then took it away.
So, the question about gear and prices is: Are you getting your money’s worth? In other words, can you use the instrument at rehearsal, at a gig, in a concert, in a recording studio? I used the Teisco Del Rey as an example because, in a way, they were cool. The market gave permission to sell them, but I’ve never seen one used at a gig, a recording session, or a concert. If an instrument is not worth the money that is being charged, eventually the market will say “no,” and the instruments will be heavily discounted. So, there is a self-adjusting “Is it worth it?” process in the marketplace.
Paul Reed Smith holds court at a clinic.
In my world, whether it’s worth the money is really important. We build instruments that sell all the way from a MAP (minimum advertised price) of $499 to a MAP of $15,000 (which is still 1/20th the price of some vintage guitars). For me, it’s highly important that someone pick up an instrument and play it before they decide if it is “worth it.” When I am at clinics, I very often let someone in the audience play my personal guitar and ask if they like the way it plays and sounds. One of the things I like about buying guitars on the internet is that there’s almost always a return policy if you don’t like the instrument. It’s a safety net that I think is good for the customers in our guitar world.
“There only has to be one thing wrong with a guitar for it to not be usable.”
Another thing I like about the internet is that if you average the blur of all the comments and reviews on a model of instrument, you can get the beginnings of an idea of whether it is worth it. For me, I’m always looking for the product that people missed either in price or that the market never gave permission to.
I recently bought an untouched 1958 vintage Les Paul Special. What was interesting about it was the weight and the neck shape were perfect, but some of the notes were buzzing badly on the neck. We leveled the frets and were kind of taken aback because the frets had never been leveled out of the factory. What we realized is that we never held a vintage Les Paul before that a repairman had not worked on. Was the instrument worth the money the day it was sold in the 1950s? Yes. Was the instrument worth the money as a vintage guitar today? Yes. I got a good deal on an untouched vintage guitar, and it taught me a lot.
I don’t buy vintage guitars as collector’s items. I buy them to understand what the people who made them were thinking the day they were made. You can’t talk to the builders anymore, but the instrument will tell you what they thought. Was the instrument ready for a recording session or a concert when sold? No. So if I had bought it to play, it may not have been worth it to me. In that regard, playing the instrument and not counting purely on reputation are just as important as knowing your “why.” There only has to be one thing wrong with a guitar for it to not be usable. Let’s just exaggerate and say the third fret was in the wrong place…. Big problem. This is kind of the way I look at it.
Firebirds came stock with a solid G-logo tailpiece, although Bigsby vibratos were often added.
It also has a personal connection. A guitarist in the band I toured with in the 1980s played a Jet Firebird from this batch extensively, but later sold it. At a decades-on reunion, it was sorely missed, leading me to obtain this one to provide the same “Great Gretsch Sound,” as the company’s ads trumpeted, and style.
Gretsch’s so-called “Jet Stream” models have been one of the company’s enduring creations. Spurred by Gibson’s 1952 Les Paul, Gretsch replied with a guitar of similar size and layout, but different construction. The single-cutaway Jets appeared in late 1953. Designated as solidbodies in the catalog, they were actually semi-solid, built on a mahogany body hollowed out from above and capped with an arched plywood top. This reduced weight and gave them a different sound and feel.
“Designated as solidbodies in the catalog, they were actually semi-solid, built on a mahogany body hollowed out from above and capped with an arched plywood top.”
By 1955, Gretsch fielded a line of Jets: the black-topped Duo Jet and Western-themed Round-Up were followed by the sparkle-top Silver Jet, the red-over-black Jet Firebird and Western orange 6121 Chet Atkins solidbody. Several sold well through the ’50s, but by the turn of the decade, sales seemed to slump, as with the Les Pauls that inspired them. In 1960–’61, Gibson redesigned the Les Paul into a slim-sculpted double-cutaway. In late ’61, Gretsch restyled the Jet body into a symmetrical double-cutaway, retaining the semi-solid construction while persisting in calling them solidbodies. The new catalog announced: “Out of this world.... Find yourself soaring through musical space and time … the epitome of solidbody construction.” The revised Jet Firebird listed at $325, soon raised to $350. The actual transition occurs in a batch bearing serial numbers in the 420XX series. At the time, Gretsch numbering usually allotted 100 pre-numbered labels to a production-year model, with all Jets lumped into one batch. The label is inside the control cavity; the serial number is also hand-etched onto the back plastic cavity cover.
Jets from 1961 retain the main features of their late-1950s predecessors: twin Filter’Tron humbucking pickups, master volume on the lower cutaway, individual pickup volumes on the lower quarter with the pickup selector and tone switch (aka “mud” switch) on the upper, bass side. The Jet’s evolution happened rapidly, moving through three stages over this one batch. The first 30 to 40 420XX examples are still single-cutaways. By 42043, the double-cut body appears, showing a notable eccentricity: the pickup selection and tone switches arrayed across the upper body in a straight line above the pickups, to the rear of the prior position. Unfortunately, this meant players could easily hit them while picking, inadvertently changing tones in mid song!
Note the chips in the headstock wood—signs of an earlier alteration of the tuning pegs, now restored to vintage spec.
Photo by George Aslaender
Shortly after this Jet Firebird bearing the number 42057 was made, the switch array was moved forward to the upper horn, mounted at an angle. This change appears by 42064, suggesting only around 20 to 30 of these first-style double-cuts exist. Known examples are mostly Duo Jets, with a few Jet Firebirds and a couple of rare Sparkle Jets. These also lack the 1961–’62 standby switch fitted on the lower bout. All came stock with a solid G-logo tailpiece, although Bigsby vibratos were often added. The next Jet batch introduced the top-mounted Burns of London vibrato unit as a stock fitting and an upgrade to gold hardware. While the double-cut body gave the Jets a new, modern look, it apparently did not improve sales. The balance suffered from the upper strap button moving back several inches, but otherwise they felt and sounded pretty much like their predecessors. This model is most associated with AC/DC’s Malcom Young, who powered the band with one right from the beginning, with that particular guitar heavily altered along the way.
The company’s Filter’Tron pickups have always had their own distinctive bark.
Photo by George Aslaender
This 1961 Jet Firebird survives in more original condition. The bridge and tuners previously went missing but have been restored to original. A driver’s license number is etched on the back of the headstock, and chips on the peghead face remain from the tuner alteration. A strap button was added to the heel, giving a better balance point. The playability is excellent and the Filter’Trons offer the classic ring and crunch, accentuated by the chambered body. The neck is slim and round-backed, with a bound-ebony fretboard inlaid in the company “neoclassic” pattern, retaining the original frets. Not being a heavy-handed strummer, the eccentric switch location has never bothered me. While in the early 1960s these pseudo-solidbodies seemed to fade from popularity, for me, this early example of Gretsch “jetting” its way into the 1960s remains a solid favorite.