It seems never-ending. Continuous harassment. Today a bloke phoned up. Now that was a bad enough experience just on its own. Unnerving jangle, then, “Andy? It’s Keith” ……
Long silence, caffeine kicks in, “Sorry, Keith who?”
“Me, Keith, Keith, you know. You set up my Strat’ two years ago. Keith. Don’t you remember? Keith, with the Strat’.”
“Err, no, sorry…. Keith. I set up a lot of guitars, well, at least I used to.”
“The Strat’. Well, my mate reckons the action could be a bit lower.”
“What do you mean right now or when I did the job?”
“When you did it, the job, two years ago, what do you think about it? Do you reckon it would go any lower, Andy? Just thought I should phone you and ask… I’ve got loads that need setting up, you know, I could bring them to you.”
There’s usually always a carrot. I don’t bite. I wouldn’t be in the slightest bit bothered if I never set up a guitar again. I wish people would learn to do it for themselves, have the confidence. It’s quite simple, really, on most brands. One step at a time, you can’t really do any harm. Maybe I’ll do a course. A course for punters, not for me, I already know how to do it.
When I was a kid, collective groan about now, no doubt, “Here we go again…”, nobody paid to have a guitar setup or restrung. I often have people prepared to pay right now, simply for me to tune the bloody thing. Unbelievable but absolutely true.
I once had someone leave a Google review, complaining about a bass setup I did, five years previously, but only just got round to mentioning it to the world, rather than raise the issue with me at the time of the job – if indeed there ever was a genuine issue. Setups are largely subjective, and most customers don’t really know what they actually want or perhaps don’t even know what to expect. Look it up, probably still there on Google Reviews. Awarded one star, I recall.
I also got one star for being “the rudest man in the world”. That incident totally escapes me; maybe they caught me on a bad day. I’m usually very polite and just make mental notes to the contrary. Another grade one gong, awarded this time for not stocking some sort of nasty pointy star of death heavy metal nutter guitar. The one with the coffin case. And yet another lone star for being shut, closed. That particular punter probably had a lucky escape.
Next phone call – “Do I repair harps….?” Seriously, they genuinely asked that. Next up – “I know you’re a guitar shop but do you sell sheet music for piano?” Well, at least they had done some basic research and discovered the hint “guitar shop”. Clue’s in the name, but that eluded them.
“Just let me check with Ludwig…… no, apparently not, he says to just fuck off…” Honestly, so tetchy those composer types.
I’ve had several calls recently, all around about 8.00 pm, usually on a Friday or Saturday night – “What time do you close? I need a new lead.” A fucking watch, more like.
Google will not let me state “random opening hours” on my listing. Thought I’d be clever and stop the Geordie AI bots phoning me to remind me to upload the missing shop hours. So, in my wisdom I put 6.00 – 6.30 a.m. Monday to Friday. That will sort it, thinks I. More about Geordie AI here.
Yep, you’ve guessed it, some dozy fucker phones up at 6.20 a.m. My phone was on silent, there were seven missed calls, same number. I phoned back, thinking it was urgent, extremely urgent, probably a death or an incoming meteorite.
“Just trying to catch you before you close for the day….” Seriously, at 6.20 a.m.? Can I tweak the programming on his silent guitar to sound like some Japanese jazz wizard he’s just heard on YouTube? Where’s Ludwig when you need him?
Is this an organised campaign, to grind me down? Is it some malicious orchestrated prank, designed to waste two hours of my day, every day, talking to endless fuckwits? The musical equivalent of Bart phoning Mo’s Bar?
Another of these japes involves the blokes who always want to sound like somebody else; they are a regular feature of my life – Chuck Berry and Joe Bonamassa are the current big star favourites being regularly requested. The conversation usually takes ages and revolves around me trying to talk them out of some ridiculous notion / rumour / forum idea. Forums, I hate them. The blind leading the blind. Populated by people who’ve usually never done or achieved anything, it’s all posture, conjecture and maybes. I try to talk them out of spending their money. Not the forums, they can drop in to a burning pit for me, the geezers on the phone I mean, but they never give up.
“If I just change the pickups, Joe uses these, don’t you know. Or turn the bridge inside out, or is it upside down? Does Joe do that? Do you know? What about turning the pickups round, Peter Green did that, didn’t he? Am I out of phase? Special pots perhaps? I read it’s all about taper. Or a narwhale nut or maybe a brass nut filed with Harpy’s teeth, same strings as Joe mind, with locking tuners, aged nickel stop bar, 50s wiring, can I have cloth? Is it really made out of cloth? How does it work then, if it’s cloth and not copper? Does it still conduct? Oil in vinegar caps? Have I got relief? Do I need relief? Does nitro’ breath? Can I have nitro’? Have I got nitro’ even?”
On and on and bleedin’ on. Incessant. Brainwashed. Forum washed. Visa card at the ready, desperate to splurge and instantly play better. Just like Peter or Joe.
Well, good old Chuck quite often never even had his own gear for you to mirror, just sponged off the house band or whoever, when he finally poled up for the gig and did his famous stuff.
Joe? Are you seriously going to know what he sounds like unless you happen to be sitting in his living room while he plugs straight in next to you and plays his heart out? Otherwise, you’re listening to about a million quid’s worth of gear dicking around with his sound, tinkered with and applied by some of the best brains and ears in the business, before it ever whizzes thousands of miles across the ether and leaps out of your phone / laptop / headphones / crappy speakers. Unless you’re unlucky enough to be at a Bonamassa concert, sat in some enormous, soulless stadium, a mile from the stage, where you will still be none the wiser, very uncomfortable and quite a bit poorer.
And let’s not forget, love ‘em or hate ‘em, those guys are / were good. Very good players indeed. Tone is in the fingers and the attitude. They play and practice for ten hours a day, every day, forever.
Another common theme – You really have to have the same guitar as your hero, or you will just never sound the same. So they tell you. Jimmy Page and his Les Paul, maybe, but all his good stuff was done on a Tele’. It’s reckoned the humble Tele’ has sold more Les Pauls than Les Paul himself, all thanks to Jimmy’s noodling. Thanks for that one, Angus.
A tech told me he set up a rig for Clapton once, very last minute, a totally unexpected guest with no gear. All he could pull together was an awful third-rate cranky Strat, the crew’s cricket bat, and a 100-watt tranny amp. But Eric just sounded like Eric, which was very good indeed. Another bloke mentioned he played his idol’s, Hank Marvin’s, guitar and gear years ago, but no way could he ever get it to sound like Hank did.
A bad workman always blames his tools, as they say. Take a look at some ace slinger like Hound Dog Taylor, have a listen and then see what he played. Often, some cheap Teisco – try and sound like that if you can.
I find it strange how today’s guitarists live in the past, wanting to mimic their musical heroes, note for note, from decades they cannot even personally recall. Heroes who probably became such through innovation and pushing boundaries in their own day and in their own way. Writing their own stuff and playing guitars that were nowhere near vintage status at the time. Using huge cranked amps, no pedals and those crappy curly guitar leads, or maybe even bell wire. You may be able to play the riff, but you didn’t write the score.
Buy a decent guitar, one you can afford, the best you can afford. Second-hand is good value for money. You probably will not lose out on resale. Choose your favourite colour and most importantly buy a guitar that is good to hold, appeals to you, feels good to play and where the weight and balance suits you. A guitar you really like that makes you want to pick it up and play. Here’s a guide.
A quality guitar will be better made; it may sound a tiny bit better, but that’s largely subjective. It may be slightly easier to play, but often a proper setup fettles that either way. It should stay relatively in tune, as better quality materials will be less susceptible to environmental changes. Machining tolerances will be tighter. Higher purchase price produces diminishing returns, with only fractional improvements for every incremental increase in cost.
Vintage won’t sound better. Sometimes they have a better feel, which is hard to nail down. And while we are on the subject, I’ve broken down many 1950s and ‘60s Fenders. Most have Spanish names scrawled inside – so don’t knock the Mexicans. Pickups – Abigail Ybarra, there’s another one.
Sound like yourself, carve your own niche. Get used to it, build on it and enjoy it. Don’t waste money on phoney upgrades. The after-market market. All those expensive bits and pieces may well be much better designed, engineered and manufactured than your standard guitar hardware, but they sure as fuck ain’t going to make you sound any better. Look better, possibly, but not sound better.
The best low-cost investment you can make, beyond your guitar, is a quality guitar lead. Or maybe just a really old, cheap, vintage curly lead instead. But don’t put that in the case next to your guitar, they rot nitro’, if you’ve got nitro’. Have you? Ha! Can it breathe in a case? Does nitro’ breathe….?
A bit more on the subject here, Tonewood, or the written version if you prefer.
