Making a Slide Guitar (with grade 8 woodworking skills)

I went to a dance (yeah, I know, but it was a school fundraiser), and a rockabilly band was playing.  It was a four piece band: singer/rhythm guitar, lead guitar, stand up bass, and drums.  They were a fun band and really swung.  For a couple of numbers, the lead guitar player pulled up a very basic-looking lap slide guitar, and it sounded really good.  I've tried playing slide on a regular guitar and it hasn't gone well, so I was wondering if a lap guitar would be better for me.  To my wife's chagrin, I kind of stopped dancing after that because I wanted to watch this guy play, but I also wanted to figure out how this guitar was made.  It didn't look hard: a plank, strings, and a pickup.

The next few days were spent trying to find out about slide guitar construction (and being nice to my wife).  On the internet, there wasn't that much information about lap slides, (but there is a lot of advice about being nice to your wife), so I just jumped in.  Doing a little inventory, I found I had a lot of the parts I needed, left over from previous mods, and I just needed some wood, a few electronic parts and a bridge.

The Body
I bought a nice piece of maple that I was going to cut in half and glue together like a sandwich so it would be nice a strong.  But I realized my tuners were not going to fit through two layers of wood, so I made sure the top layer extended beyond the bottom layer.   I still had to rout a bit of the thickness out so the pegs would clear the top.

I used tuners from an old Gibson Marauder.

Like the Marauder, I cut the headstock on an angle
 for a straighter, less-binding string pull.

The Bridge and Electronics
I bought a top-mounted bridge online and installed it on the end of the body.  I routed and drilled out places for the pickup and electronics.  I mounted them on some pieces of hardboard which was cheap, available, and easy to cut.  I didn't have a knob so I drilled out a red die, like on some hot-rodded rockabilly guitars. 

The pickup is a leftover stacked Dimarzio. 

The Frets
Okay, here is where I totally cheated.  A real woodworker gave me a nice thin piece of cherry for the fretboard, and I read about fret distance calculators and scale lengths.  It looked way too complicated.  Wanting to get on with it, I just photocopied the neck of a student guitar.  It was nice and wide, and the 24" scale made it nice and easy to place the nut.  The nut is an aluminum nut cover used to convert regular guitars into high-action slide guitars. 

The fret markers are happy face stickers, 

The "Finished" Product
I strung the guitar up with some Ernie Ball regular slinky strings that I had, tuned it to open G, and plugged it in.  Amazingly, it worked!  I used a lug from a socket wrench set as my slide (until I bought some actual slides).  The fret markers are surprisingly true, so when I put the slide over the frets, the guitar is actually in tune.  The Dimarzio has a lot of bite when I crank up the gain on my amp.  I had to run a ground wire to get rid of a little hum. 

I actually did this project a few years ago which you might be able to tell by the dust in the pictures.  A lot of the things I thought were going to be temporary, (e.g. the unfinished finish, the paper fretboard, etc.) have stayed, so far.  I drilled a hole and strung some leather through it so I could hang the guitar. 

Clyde the Slide

looks kind of like a Chapman Stick.

 

 

I name all of my guitars, and old Clyde is still doing well.  But I'll save more recent activities for future posts.  

The Embers: the song I want played at my funeral.

I refound the song I want played at my funeral.  It is called, "The Embers" and it was written by Billy Cowsill and Jeffrey Hatcher.  The version I know is by Jim Byrnes from his Fresh Horses CD.*

I first heard the song when Byrnes played it at a concert I attended at the Terry Fox theatre.  I don't know if it was poorly promoted or not, but there were maybe twelve people in attendance.  Byrnes, Jesse Zubot, and Steve Dawson still put on a great, intimate show.  When they played "The Embers", it was one of those magical moments.  Maybe it was because there were so few people, it felt moving and personal, like coming across a unicorn in a forest, and you look around like, "Is anyone else seeing this?"  During the performance, Dawson played a slow slide solo on his Weissenborn which unfortunately is not on the CD, but captured somewhat in my memory.  I bought the CD at the end of the show, and the trio signed it. 

Lyrically, the song does not capture my view on love and life, but it does have the right feel for my view on love and death.





*It might be out of print, so you can find it in the first binder of CDs in the computer room. 

Playing with Others

At work a few years ago, we started a little band at work.  I'd probably played longer than anyone else in the band, but I learned as much or more than everyone else too.  The biggest thing I learned, and it sounds really obvious, but playing with other people is different than just playing by yourself.  There are some small things and big things too.

• Being in tune is really important.  At first, we just used to self-tune, but I thought we sounded weird and phasey sometimes when we played together, so I started tuning everyone.  I think they thought I was just being anal until I started recording us, then they all went out and bought tuners.
• A song is not a long solo.  Lots of guitar players, especially when they first start really getting into it, solo all.the.time.  If you want to alienate a band with your awe-inspiring talent or your self-indulgence, keep it up.
• Guitar players also are good at parts of a song (the intro, a riff, a solo), but if you play in a band, you have to learn the whole song, all the way through.  
• Same with playing in time: try not to speed up during solos and choruses, and if you make a mistake, yup, keep playing. 
• Tone is more important than being loud.  This 50 watt modelling amp I have sounds awesome at home.  It is big and bassy sounding.  It can fill the room nicely, and when I crank it up, it can fill the neighbourhood.  BUT when I play with the band, this amp does not cut through the mix.  That would be okay if I am just trying to give atmosphere, but if I am playing the main riff or doing a solo, my guitar does not jump out whereas the other guitar player has this little 15 watt amp that cuts through every time.  I've since switched over to a smaller tube amp that sounds a little thin on its own, but fits nicely in the mix with the band.
• Use effects sparingly.  Stomp boxes are very seductive.  There are so many sounds and knobs and buttons.  Multi-effects or stand-alone units or on-board effects?  So many choices!  But as important as your sound is, the rest of the band won't be thrilled with you scrolling through menus, twiddling knobs, or fooling with your presets.  Do that on your own time because all of that tweaking is getting in the way of the big idea: playing with the band.  All you really need is a clean sound, a dirty sound, and a lead sound, and you need to be able to access them quickly (i.e. without having to plug something in during the middle of a song, stomp on 5 buttons, etc.).  Also, if you play with the same, heavily-effected sound, it is going to get old fast. 
• Singers rule song choice.  Unless you are an instrumental band, the singers should choose the songs or at least the songs should be chosen with the singers in mind.  You might have to give up some great guitar-heavy songs if the songs are not in the singer's range or register.   Think of Lou Reed singing "Stairway to Heaven".  Sure, you can capo or rearrange, but you will probably have to move on.  In doing songs from the singer's perspective, I have moved out of my guitar-based song rut.  My playing hasn't really improved, but my musicianship is definitely getting "wider".
• Decent monitors are essential for playing live.  With another staff band, we were playing at our school talent show.  Listening to the student performers, I was surprised how consistently off-key the singers were, that is, until we took the stage.  Sure, we were on-key because we could hear our amped instruments on stage, but because we were playing to a backing track played on the PA, we were so out of sync with the rhythm track. 

Though these points sound preachy, you need to know that I have made ALL of the mistakes I have stated above.  Of course, these remarks are based on my own limited experience, but heck, so is the rest of this blog!

Start with the Start, Stupid.

Last fall, I picked up a big bodied Gretsch on Craigslist, and proudly showed it to my wife when I got home.  She saw that it was hollow bodied, and asked me to play it.  I strummed a bit unplugged, and she said, "Hmmm, it's quieter than I expected....Do you think it needs new strings?''  I rolled my eyes at her, and packed the guitar off upstairs. 

 

I fell in love with this guitar as soon as the sellers took it out of the case: gloss black, lots of chrome accents with a Bigsby, big body and a wide flat neck to match.  It looked like liquid cool, and I conjured up the Gretsch twang inside my head.  I tried it out on the big Marshall amp they had, and it had the growl, but not the Gretsch twang.  I bought it anyway, thinking I would get the twang on my brighter amps at home. 

 

But when I got it home and played it for my wife, still no lively sound, just as my wife could identify with her untrained ears.  I kept the lie alive, fending off buyer's remorse, because how could a guitar that looked and felt so great sound so lifeless?  I tried it in a very bright amp, and still it had a happy mellow jazz sound, but no real nasal bite.  Disappointed?  Not yet.

 

You'd think I would be able to get the big sound out of this slick Gretsch.  I tried amps and effects, and was able to get a somewhat brighter sound, but not the right fundamental sound.  I went on the internet, and found out that the pickups in this guitar are a bit dull sounding.  I found a mod where you pull out one whole row of screws which did help a bit, but websites recommended changing the pickups altogether.  I didn't want to do this to a "new" guitar.

So thinking about what my wise wife said, I swapped off the old strings for some D'addario flat wound.  There was a big change in sound. The sound had more presence, and was definitely louder.  It was very mellow and the flatwounds eliminated finger squeak.  It had a great jazz sound, so instead of using the big Gretsch for country, rock, or rockabilly, (what the guitar is made for) I started using it to explore jazz.  If you know Gretsches, this is like using a banjo to play jazz, but the big body and hearing some jazz in the summer just pointed me in the jazz direction.   It made me feel more jazzy, but the feeling didn't last.  Or maybe the feeling lasted, but it wasn't a feeling I wanted for this guitar.

At the same time, I felt the Ernie Ball strings on my Strat were too brittle sounding.  I'd played this brand of strings for 30 years.  They were my go-to brand but this was the first time I'd felt any ear fatigue with them.  Maybe it was from playing the overly mellow Gretsch so much recently. 

"Hey!  Wait a second!  My Strat is too bright and thin, and my Gretsch is too mellow sounding.  Hmmmm," I thought.  Yup, I did the thing you aren't supposed to do.  I took the strings off one guitar and put them on the other, and vice versa.  Waddaya know?  The Gretsch came back to life!  Acoustically, the guitar sounded louder and the amps sounded like I lifted a blanket off them.  And my Strat was tamed along with a fast feel with the flatwounds.

So many lessons learned here.  First, I should have listened to my wife.  Second, the fundamental part of the guitar sound is where my fingers touch the strings.  I should have started there in my sound investigations too.  And talk about a cheap fix.

Best buy?

Further to my last post, I was thinking of the best cheap guitar I ever bought. 

It was a Squier Stratocaster. It was love at first sight.  It was glossy black with a beautiful pearloid pick guard.  There was a worn spot where your forearm contacted the guitar.  The frets were in great shape, and the string action was nice and low. The maple neck was a vintage butterscotch tone, and it had the smaller, more attractive headstock with the spaghetti Fender logo.

But beyond all of this physical beauty was how it felt. Sure, it sounded good too, but I have never felt a guitar that felt so good in my hand in the business area, between the fifth and tenth fret.  It felt like it was made for my hand.  It was like when my dad taught me how to break in a baseball glove. Both cases, glove and guitar neck, felt like buttah.

I got it for a song, hunting around on Craigslist.  I had been on the hunt for a bit.  I'd played a few Squier Strats in stores, but was not impressed by the workmanship of the Affinity line especially.  They had flimsy components and sharp frets that hung out past the fretboards. But the gem I bought had no such issues. 

And where is this beauty now?  Well, that's the thing.  It was never meant to be mine in the first place.  I was looking for a nice gift for my brother in-law's fortieth birthday, and I came across this treasure. Okay, I admit that it crossed my mind to go find a different one for Kevin because I liked that one so much, but I knew that as a player he would really appreciate such a sweet guitar.  And he did. 

It turned out to be the perfect gift for him.  As added bonuses, I got to go hunting, and I do get to visit the little prize every so often.

Why buy cheap guitars?

Tight wad. I love playing the guitar, but people are amazed that I don't buy expensive guitars. My friends who golf or play hockey as their hobbies always buy the best equipment they can afford, and sometimes beyond what they can afford.  They justify the expense because they say the high priced equipment brings out the best in their performance.

 

But I know myself too well. 

 

When I start any new hobby that involves buying something, I tend to buy cheap to medium priced gear.  I never know if something is going to stick with me because I am interested in lots of things.  In the last five years, I have been interested in: classroom technology, design and architecture, knitting, home exercise, fountain pens, Steampunk watches, Hermes citrus fragrance, woodwork, yoga, slow cookers, pressure cookers, economics, jogging, and cycling (I just have to buy a bike). 

My friends also justify the initial outlay of cash because they can always sell their quality equipment later.  Resale is not big with me because I don't want the hassle of trying to get a few bucks once the interest is dropped.

 

But here is my favourite reason for buying inexpensive guitars: modding.  I am a huge tinkerer, so buying something that is perfect is not as interesting to me as getting something I can mess about with.

 

Take my number one workhorse guitar.  It was a  $240 Mexican made Fender Stratocaster.  Then I:
1. Changed the neck to a maple one.
2. Put on better tuners and got rid of the string tree.
3. Shaved down the screws on the bridge.
4. Put on a humbucker on the bridge position.
5. Rewired the tone control to make it control the bridge pickup.
6. Put in a mini switch so the humbucker could be a single coil too.
7. Removed the trem cover and floated the trem.
8. Put in different saddles.
9. Put the string tree back on.
10. Replaced the jack.
11. Reseated a couple of high frets.
12. Cranked the trem back down.

 

Would I have had to do all of this if I had bought a new Strat?  Yes and no.  Yes because some of these things were because the original parts were worn or just plain crappy.  But no because some of these mods came from the evolution of my playing and my tastes. For example, for modern heavier songs, I needed the growl of the humbucker, but I missed the clarity of the single, so having the switch gave me both.  There aren't many Strats fresh off the shelf that can do this.  I raised the trem to be like Jeff Beck, but when I realized that I am a mere mortal, I lowered it back down.  I was able to make all of these mods along the way as my preferences dictated.

 

I don't think I would have done all of these changes with a new expensive guitar.  With a cheaper instrument, I wouldn't be as worried making these changes or if I totally botched the job.  Leo Fender was a genius.  He designed this guitar with modification a true possibility.  This is not as true with other guitars.  The Strat is like a Hot Rod in that sense in that you can find a myriad of parts available to suit your particular needs. 

 

There is also the process.  If I bought a perfect guitar I would be denying myself all the fun of tinkering which includes doing the actual mods, the purchasing of the parts, but also the research of the how, the what, the why, and the where.  Ask my wife and she will tell you I spend more time thinking and reading about guitars than I do playing one.

Are cheap guitars better than expensive ones?  Probably not, but for frugal tinkerers like me, they can be a lot more fun.   

Fretting Out

On my workhorse guitar, a 1994 Mexican Stratocaster, I would fret out after the 19th fret, essentially making it a 20 fret guitar.  I don't often play that high, but the times I would, it would be embarrassing always being flat trying to get that C# or even the high C sometimes. 

It started when I replaced the neck on my skinny fret 1994 Squier Series guitar with a 2008 neck I bought on Ebay.  I don't really know what I'm doing when I am making any of these mods to my guitars, but I like the pursuit of tinkering.  Anyway, I unbolted the old neck and slapped on the new one. The frets felt immediately better, and I loved the look, sound, and feel of the maple fret board (the old one was rosewood).  But somewhere down the line, it started fretting out on the high fret on the high E string only.

I tried all sorts of things, including raising the action of just the E string, but it felt weird and I lost a noticeable amount of volume.  I read that my hero, Jeff Beck, had his trem set pretty high so he could get his trademark flutter sound up and down in pitch.  When I did that, my guitar no longer fretted out.  Problem solved.

Well, for a while. 

With Beck's set up, I perceived a loss of sustain and richness in the sound (though Jeff does not share this problem with me).  The action also felt weird.  I started thinking of buying another guitar just to get around this, but my attachment to this guitar, and my attachment to a pile of money stopped me from doing that.  I lowered the action, I lowered the trem, and mostly, I lowered my expectations of ever playing on the high frets on this guitar.

Then, last week, looking for something else, I came across on a newsgroup someone who had a similar fretting out problem.  He took it to his tech who diagnosed that the culprit was an unseated fret.  The tech took out his fret block and his custom hammer and gently tapped the fret back into place.

Inspired, I took the guitar to my tech (me), who took out his fret block (a chunk of wood that fell off the cabinet he made) and his custom hammer (a rock - God knows why this was lying on the floor of the den), and smacked the fret into place with a couple of whacks.  Ooops, there was now a groove in the fret.  My tech draped a rag over the pickups so no filings would stick to the magnets, and gave the fret a polish with some steel wool.

And waddaya know? No fretting out!  The C# sounds like it should and I can also bend up to D.


(Okay, there is a small chance that it was the steel wool, not the fret tapping that cured this problem, but without a time machine, I'll never know.  But who cares?  I can play high C#!)