The Official Guitar Plan

Over the weekend, I was running on the treadmill and thinking about guitars, which is something I do often, even when I'm not on a treadmill. Specifically, I was thinking about my current crop of guitars and what I can do to make them even better.

This thought process came forth from the troubles I've had with my Hondo ever since I rebuilt it with new parts. Everything works well, but the tremolo won't stay in tune. I bit the bullet and locked down the Wilkinson tremolo over the weekend, but it didn't completely solve the problem. I think those tremolos just weren't designed to be set flush against the body. 

I've said this many times, but I have no place in my guitar-playing life for guitars with tremolos. I just don't like them. I've tried to use them, and with the exception of the Floyd Rose on my old Charvel, they never stayed in tune and were a constant source of frustration. Even the Floyd wasn't perfect - it was a be-yotch to set up and if you broke a string, forget it. You're left with a completely unplayable instrument as the now uneven tension between the strings and the springs is violently shifted to the latter, putting every string out of tune. I also like to change tunings from time to time - right now, my Strat is tuned to E-flat - and doing that with a floating tremolo will take all afternoon, not five minutes like it does with a hardtail.

This sense of frustration and the desire for hardtail guitars had me looking at other guitars recently, namely a certain purple Ibanez at Spotlight Music in Fort Collins. But a lack of guitar funds - well, any funds for that matter - and the need for other things in my life like a new computer, air conditioning, food, etc. put that idea on ice permanently, unless for some odd reason the Ibanez is still there in a few years, which I highly doubt. Also, I don't need a new guitar. I could get pretty much any tone I want with the guitars I have now. Anything new would be just frivolous.

With all this in mind, I was running on my treadmill, listening to some prog (Spock's Beard was on at the time, if memory serves) and an idea hit me that was so simple and made so much sense that I decided to make it my Official Guitar Plan.

The plan goes as follows:

• Go to Warmoth.com and get a new body for my Strat. Warmoth is licensed to make Fender replacement parts so everything is sized right for Fender guitars. I'll get the same basic body, as I like the way it sounds, which means it'll be an Alder body with a black gloss finish. However, I'll get it routed for a hardtail bridge instead of a tremolo. They also sell bridges and ferrules, so I can get everything I need at the same place. I want a universal pickup rout, too, just in case I get tired of the pickups and want to try something completely different. Even though it takes away more wood - and diminishes tone and sustain - any loss in the pickup routing should be more than made up for the fact that it has no tremolo rout in the back. See, I thought of everything.
• Take the old Strat body, tremolo and all, and use it to rebuild my Hondo. The vintage-style tremolo on my Strat is locked down nicely and makes a much better hardtail than the Wilkinson. Also, the body on the Hondo is a disaster. It's plywood, it's thin, it has holes in places it shouldn't, and it's generally beat up. All the parts should fit the Fender body well except for the neck, as the Hondo neck is a bit wider than a standard Fender neck. I should be able to finagle it in, but if I can't I can always drop it off at Spotlight Music to get it put together.
• Take the old Hondo body outside and burn it. Or make a wall clock out of it or something. I'll take off the Wilkinson first and try to sell it

That's the plan. It's so simple it's brilliant. It's economical, too, as the parts I need still cost less than the purple Ibanez. Plus I can do the work myself, unless I run into an issue bolting the Hondo neck onto the Fender body. The hardest part now is being patient. Although it costs less (and saves my Hondo from certain closet exile) it still costs something, and something is more than the nothing I have right now to spend on my guitars. Of course, that doesn't stop me from wanting to do it right freakin' now. At least I have something to look forward to.

Overzealous upgrading

When I got back my old Hondo and determined what I wanted to upgrade, I really did have good intentions. My goal was to not only make it playable again, but also to make it a viable addition to my collection. A guitar that I wouldn't be embarrassed to play in public or to bring to a lesson or jam session. A guitar I could be proud of.

I did have a guitar in mind when I put together my list of upgrades - Alan Morse's red Stratocaster. As you can see from the picture on the left (which I got from the Web, so if there's any copyright issue, please let me know), it's an HSS Strat with a painted headstock, a maple neck and a Floyd Rose tremolo. I could be wrong, but it looks like a Japanese Strat.

Anyway, my Hondo is quite similar except it's black and, well, it's not a Fender. So the addition of an HSS pickguard was a given. I considered the possibility of adding a Floyd, but since my Hondo has a bullet truss rod, I didn't think the locking nut would fit. So I ended up getting a Wilkinson blade tremolo, which is nice and smooth, but has the same problem as all non-locking tremolos I've ever used - the damn thing won't stay in tune.

I've tried everything. I replaced the stock string tree with a roller string tree. The tuners were already pretty solid, so I left them alone. I put graphite on the nut. I used three different methods of spring setup - the standard three-spring W formation, the Carl Verheyen three-straight-springs-with-an-angled-claw formation, and, most recently, the Eddie Van Halen two-springs-in-a-V-with-an-angled-claw formation that he used before switching to locking tremolos. Nothing works. It stays in tune for about 5 minutes, then it sounds like death. I don't even have to touch the trem arm - just a deep bend throws it out of tune.

When I got this guitar back from my friend's dad, the original 6-screw tremolo was bolted down solid to the guitar body. I joked at how bad it was and how I threw it away, but right now I wish I still had it. I'd take out the Wilkinson and put it back in in a heartbeat because right now, I don't play my Hondo often. It goes out of tune too easily which makes it not a lot of fun to play.

Unless anyone has any suggestions on how to keep it in tune, I'll have to look into locking down the Wilkinson now, which seems like a colossal waste of time and money. I could've achieved the same result with the old setup. Plus, since the Wilkinson is a floating blade tremolo, it'll be a lot harder to lock down than a vintage 6-screw trem, which is probably the easiest style of tremolo to lock down.

It should be worth the effort, though, to be able to play the Hondo again without getting frustrated and annoyed. I want to rotate my four guitars as often as possible to try and alleviate my need to buy many guitars. If I had the means, I swear I'd have at least 20 guitars. That purple Ibanez would just be the start.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Conway Twitty...

I done a bad thing (important lesson enclosed)

When I bought my Telecaster earlier this year, I promised, pinky swore, right hand to the guitar gods, that it would be the last guitar I'd buy for a very, very long time. I had good reason to say this. I never thought I'd find another guitar that spoke to me the same way, or fit me as well, or was just so full of epic awesomeness as my Tele.

Fast forward to this past Saturday. My wife and I were in Fort Collins for hair appointments. Usually we schedule them together, but this time it didn't quite work out, so I had about an hour and a half to kill while my wife was getting primped and pampered. Since it was a beautiful sunny day, I decided to walk down to Spotlight Music, the same place I took my old Hondo to get rebuilt. What better way to waste some alone time than to be surrounded by guitars? I can't think of many.

While strolling around the shop, I saw a guitar hanging on the wall that I remembered from when I dropped off my Hondo in January. It was an Ibanez RGR421EXFM in transparent lavender burst (makes you really appreciate names like "Stratocaster," doesn't it?). Despite the alphabet soup name it was an absolutely stunning guitar, as the picture on the right shows (it looks even better in person). So when one of the workers walked past and asked me if I needed any assistance, I asked him if I could play it. He got me a cord, a pick and a tuner and told me to pick an amp and play.

First, some boring guitar specs: it's a standard RG shape with a pretty light weight mahogany body, a maple bolt-on neck with a thin Wizard profile and 24 frets on a rosewood fingerboard, white binding, a reverse tilt-back headstock, and a high-access joint. It has two humbuckers (a V7 and a V8), a master volume and tone, and a 5-way switch that coil taps the humbuckers in a way that I don't really know (I couldn't find the wiring diagram on Ibanez' Web site since the model is no longer made) but sounds really good. It has a fixed bridge which I love because I hate tremolos. The bridge is a regular hardtail Strat-style with individual saddles and a string-through design. The guitar was made in Indonesia, but judging from the quality of the build it really doesn't make a difference here.

I chose a Line 6 amp because I have one at home, so not only would it sound similar, but I'd actually know how to operate it. The first thing I did, though, was inspect the guitar. The build quality was outstanding. There were no rough spots, no dings or nicks, the hardware was solid, the finish was perfect, the frets were smooth, and the neck binding was gleaming white. I never had a guitar with neck binding before, and I gotta say I really like it. After a quick tune I plugged it in.

Sure the guitar looked great, but once I played it through the amp it reached a new level of awesome. It had a versatility that I didn't expect, from full-on metal to Hendrix-style blues to clear, sparkling clean tones. All five positions had their own distinct tone. The coil-split positions on the Blues amp setting were perfect for SRV riffs. The humbuckers did classic rock tones and metal tones with equal aplomb. What impressed me the most was the string clarity. Even on the highest gain setting (Insane), you could hear each string without any mud.

Playability was outstanding, too. The Wizard neck was thin and comfortable - I had no DeQuervain's symptoms, and I was abusing barre chords like there was no tomorrow. The frets were bigger than the ones I'm used to on my Fenders, and I have to admit I liked them. They were jumbo enough that you didn't have to touch the fretboard. The radius was pretty flat - I'm guessing 12" - and it didn't fret out. I tried, believe me. The neck was a little wider than a Fender, so Hendrix-style thumb fretting was a little more difficult, but it wasn't impossible and with a little bit of acclimation I probably wouldn't even notice it.

The best thing about this guitar was that it made me sound like a better player than I actually am. Even the guy who set me up walked by and said, "you're really tearing it up." He could've just been buttering me up to make a sale, but I like to think that I sounded good. I felt like I sounded good. All guitars have their own voice. Sometimes, when you sit down with a guitar, it just doesn't speak to you. This one did. I heard its song and was captivated. I could say honestly, and without exception, it was the nicest guitar I ever played.

At that point came the thoughts. First and foremost, I realized I made a terrible mistake. Had I played this guitar before I bought my Tele, I never would've bought my Tele. It's better in every respect - looks, playability, sound - and matches it in build quality. For less money, to add insult to injury. I don't even care that it wasn't made in the U.S.A. Ibanez is a Japanese company, and you can tell that they brought their Japanese quality standards to their Indonesian factory.

But the truth of the matter is that I blew any guitar budget I would've had when I bought my Telecaster. And it's not like I lose in this situation - I still have an awesome, American-made Fender that's 99% as good as the Ibanez. Sure the Ibanez is a better guitar in my opinion, but it's not that much better. It's like comparing a Ferrari to a Lamborghini. Sure the Ferrari is better, but it's still a freakin' Lamborghini.

And herein lies today's lesson: comparison shop. When making an important purchase, don't buy the first thing you see, be it a guitar, a car, or a house. Look around. Try out a few things. Then make up your mind. I didn't, and I ended up losing out on a fabulous guitar. But hey, maybe my loss could be your gain. If you're around Fort Collins and you're in the market for a hardtail Superstrat, stop by Spotlight Music and check out the lavender Ibanez hanging on the wall. You may end up leaving the store with the best guitar I've ever played.

Blog URL change

I decided to change the URL of my blog to http://pantomimehorseblog.blogspot.com. I changed the word "music" to "blog" because with all the blog ideas I have in my head, my blog will be less and less about music in the very near future. I'll still have music related posts, especially once I get back into recording and writing music, but all my ideas right now are decidedly non-musical.

So to anyone who linked to my blog, please update the address. And to my feed subscribers, everything should stay the same.

The great DeQuervain's scale length experiment, conclusion: When pain is a good thing.

When I first announced my DeQuervain's scale length experiment, I thought I'd be conducting a series of experiments over a few weeks. But, as usually happens with me, things didn't turn out exactly as I had planned.

I did what I said I was going to do and put down the Fenders and picked up the Les Paul for a few days. Late last week, I was sitting on the floor in my computer/guitar room strumming chords while my wife was going through her online school orientation when I thought, "I'm already strumming chords, I may as well strum barre chords." So I started abusing barre chords and, sure enough, my DeQuervain's pain came back.

So what does this prove? Well, it proves that scale length don't mean shit. This is good and bad. It's good because it means I can keep playing my beloved Fenders without wondering if I'm causing major damage. It's bad because it means I have to really work at my wrists to try to mitigate my condition as best as I can.

I try to look at the positives, though, and in celebration of the results of this experiment, I picked up my Strat - still my favorite guitar despite the sheer awesomeness of my Telecaster - and had one of the best BS sessions I've had in a while. Sure, it was only 20 minutes worth of improvisation while my wife ran on the treadmill, but it felt good. I missed my Strat and I don't know what I would've done if I couldn't play it anymore.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some wrist stretches to do.

The great DeQuervain's scale length experiment, part one

I have DeQuervain's tenosynovitis. I've had it most of my life. You can read the details here if you like. It sucks. It really gets in the way of my guitar playing. So you could understand how not noticing it would be something I notice.

For the last week or so I've been playing my Les Paul Special (I tend to rotate my guitars based on nothing in particular). One day, I made a casual observation - I haven't experienced any DeQuervain's symptoms. This intrigued me, so I did some research on DeQuervain's and scale length and found that some people have decreased their symptoms by playing guitars with a shorter scale. This concerned me, as only one of my four guitars has a shorter scale.

After reading this, I decided to conduct an experiment. I would play guitars with different scale lengths for a few days and then deliberately try to induce a DeQuervain's reaction.

For those who may not know, scale length is the length of the string from the nut to the bridge (or more accurately, the length from the nut to the 12th fret doubled, because strings intonate at slightly different lengths). Also, Fender and Fender-derived guitars use a 25.5" scale length, while Gibson and Gibson-derived guitars use a 24.75" scale length. Of course, there are exceptions, but I'm talking about the standard Strat/Tele/Les Paul guitars that dominate the guitar landscape.

For part one of my experiment, I chose my new, amazing Fender Telecaster HH. For two days, I played and practiced as I normally would in order to get my hands used to the guitar. Then, on day three (which happened to be yesterday) I induced the DeQuervain's. Since it happens mostly when I play a lot of barre chords, I did just that, including playing the evil chord progression from "Distant Early Warning" that gave me so many problems when I was in high school. Sure enough, after only about 10 minutes of this, the pain came on strong. It was really bad this time. I spent the rest of the evening massaging and stretching my wrist and hand and it still hurt a little in the morning.

Part two starts today. I put away my Tele and took out the Les Paul again. I'll play as usual for the next two days and then try to induce a reaction on the third day. I actually hope it hurts just as bad. That would mean that the problem is my wrist and it doesn't matter what guitar I play. Otherwise, I don't know what to do. Like I said, I have four guitars and only one with a 24.75" scale. I'd have to make some tough decisions if it turns out that I can't play them anymore.

For sake of argument, I'm going to have a part three, where I conduct the same experiment using my Strat. It still has the same 25.5" scale as the Tele, but it has lighter strings on it, so maybe that will make a difference. I sincerely hope so.