Gear Archives - Pluckin' A

In praise of: Guitars with ‘too many’ frets

Recently I was doing the rounds, looking through the websites of various guitar companies to do a bit of daydreaming/window shopping and to see if there’s anything new that I’ve missed (hey, there’s no shame in it). I noticed a stunning new model on the Jackson site – a sparkly blue series-production version of the rare 27-fret Soloist, previously a Custom Shop model which they’re trying out as their first ever production model with more than 24 frets. This is good news.

I suppose I’m giving away my roots as a metal/shred enthusiast by professing my love for guitars with more than 24 frets, but humour me – while many people can’t see a single viable use for such a thing, this is My Blog and I can. The extra frets can be great for soloing (even if you might need to bung your fretting hand in a pencil sharpener to hit them with any precision) but what’s even better is having the extra deep cutaway to reach the 19th to 24th frets easier than on a normal 24-fret guitar. Being able to precisely place tapped harmonics is fun too.

Let me show you something ridiculous, which I used to own:

Taste and restraint? Never heard of ‘er…

This is my old Ibanez RG550XH, a limited-run model which was available in black and a couple of different sparkly finishes a few years ago. I had an absolute blast with this guitar, I still think back to it every now and then and wonder if I should look for another one – I sold it to pay for the James Tyler, so it needed to happen, but I do have a craving for some 30-fret action in my life again. It was dirt cheap, and played great. I pretty much used the bridge pickup exclusively, it had an active neck pickup ‘simulation’ which I never really bothered with if I’m honest. Reactions-wise, it received a mixture of amazement, amusement and, perhaps most frequently, bemusement. If I got another one, I’d try to hunt down a blue example and probably give it a mirror scratchplate with just a single humbucker.

Rock and f’n roll.

Other guitars are available though, so let’s have a look at some of the stuff you can get hold of if the thought of having your range extended upwards is getting you excited.

If you’re prepared to splash the cash, there are any number of 27-fret Caparison models out there, the bolt-on neck Horus being perhaps the best known, the very high-end thru-neck TAT being the poshest, and there have been a few signature artist models with 27 frets as well. But the one I’m going to share, which I covet the most, is the now-discontinued Apple Horn Jazz, the fixed-bridge variant of Swedish madman Mattias Eklundh’s signature guitar. This, and one of Caparison’s Brocken baritones, would be a formidable pairing for recording some metal guitars…

This EC29 has a crackle finish and a grab handle too. Because why not? [Photo credit: Reverb]

Way back in the late 80s, the era of excess which I rather wish I’d been there for, Washburn were making a whole line of guitars with crazily extended fretboards, the excellent Stephen’s Extended Cutaway (still used on Nuno Bettencourt’s N4s) being the unique selling point. There was the rare bolt-on EC26 – name corresponding to the number of frets – but even cooler is the thru-neck EC29. Or, if that just isn’t excessive enough for you, why not delete the neck pickup (because there simply isn’t space) and have a full three octaves? The EC36 is truly ridiculous. You might see it as a shark-jump moment for the 80s superstrat craze, I prefer to view it as a glorious folly for true connoisseurs.

Hamer more than dabbled in extra frets in the 80s too. The relatively plentiful, bolt-on Californian superstrat design boasted a healthy 27 frets, but cooler still was the very, very limited-run, hand-made Virtuoso model, a delightfully well-resolved double-cutaway, set-neck shape with, again, a dog-bothering 36 frets. A few years ago, the *ahem* colourful character that was the late Ed Roman offered a recreation of the Virtuoso model through his custom shop, although how many of those exist is unclear. I gather that ‘real’ Virtuoso models (Virtuosi?) are very rare too. Perhaps even in the 1980s, there wasn’t THAT much call for 36 frets. Many of them had Floyd Rose bridges, although some appear to exist with fixed bridges – including this phenomenally tasty-looking apple green example on the right. I always love a nice shiny green guitar, especially when it gives you enough range to transcend human hearing altogether…

Did you know PRS made a few 27-fret guitars in the early days? The hand-made Sorcerer’s Apprentice dates from the pre-factory era and there are, as far as I know, only a handful in existence. It was based on the equal-cutaway shape, a la the Santana model, and appeared to have three P-90s, the back two of which are jammed together to, presumably, give a humbucker sound. There was even a 12-string example, a glorious symbol of excess if ever there was one. I’d love to see this model brought back – I doubt it’ll happen, but a man can dream.

Yes, it’s really stupid – but you still want it a bit, don’t you? Not in matt black though. [Photo credit: Reverb]

Logic dictates I should save the most excessive til last – I thought we’d have a job finding something crazier than the Washburn or the Hamer, but then a long-buried memory resurfaced… allow me to introduce the Gary Kramer Turbulence. This delta wing-shaped weapon was available, of course, with 29 frets (for the weak-willed and prudish among us), or with a full complement of 36 frets – either with a fixed bridge or a Floyd Rose. And seven strings, if you wanted. If it’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing.

Don’t try and tell me these don’t ROCK.

Is it a ‘bird? – 1978 Aria Pro II MK-1600

I love an old, late 70s B.C. Rich, don’t you? Those crazy shapes, those fancy neck-through building techniques, those mad kitchen-sink banks of switches… while they’ve settled into predominantly catering for extreme metallers since the late 80s, those desirable old hand-built models still stand as a testament to the class and genuine innovation BCR displayed when they were still a small shop in Los Angeles.

Of those early shapes, the Mockingbird is hands-down the coolest. The Bich is probably too much, the Eagle is possibly too little, but the Mock in its original form is still absolutely jaw-dropping today. Well… not quite its original form, perhaps – the earliest examples had a shorter bottom horn and the top point shifted upwards, and those “shorthorn” models look a bit gawky and weird now. But the re-designed model? You can definitely see how it became such an icon, most notably in the hands of one curly-haired young fella in a top hat…

There is a price to pay for that iconic status nowadays though – and that price, if you can even find one in the UK, is probably somewhere well north of £3k. But fear not – if you want an old Mockingbird, I recently discovered that there is another way… well, if you’re prepared to spend some time on the chase.

All that’s missing is a control for making coffee.

Browsing eBay one day (how dangerous can that be? pfffft) I spotted a rare ‘bird indeed – a near-enough exact, Japanese-built copy of an early Mockingbird, indeed hailing from the exact period in which the Mockingbird first appeared, the late 1970s.

The headstock displayed a classic seventies Japanese ‘lawsuit guitar’ trait – the logo designed to be JUST different enough from what it’s copying. A stylised mother-of-pearl ‘P’ inlay instead of the ‘R’ on a handcrafted Rich… that ‘P’ marks it out as an Aria Pro II, and the seller advertised it as having been built in 1978 (though he later added it may have been 1977 instead). As for the rest of the guitar… well, you’d have to be a *serious* nerd to really tell it apart from a kosher USA Mockingbird. Even the classic B.C. Rich “cloud” inlays have been copied wholesale. There’s only one noticeable difference – it gives away a single micro-switch from the smorgasbord of controls. That’s it.

That and the fact it was £750, rather than the thick end of four grand.

Seriously – what crazy value for money this seems, when it genuinely is pretty much the next-best thing to an original Mock. It even has the same pickups – vintage, early DiMarzio Dual Sounds, superbly 70s-sounding high output four-conductor humbuckers which are absolutely amazing. The guitar rings really nicely, despite appearing to be made from about 800 different pieces of maple – lots of pancake layering going on in this, which is possibly the only other clue as to its relative cheapness.

Wiring-wise… how long have you got? The controls:

Master volume (closest to bridge pickup)

3-way pickup selector

Preamp volume (with preamp on/off micro switch next to it)

Master tone

Master coil-split micro switch

Master phase-reversal micro switch

6-way varitone (the chickenhead knob)

You want to see the inside of the control cavity… it looks like the wiring loom of a Mercedes S-class. I may swap the black plastic cover for a transparent one to amuse house guests.

The varitone is next to useless, as is the preamp (I’ve taken the battery out and I’m wondering about changing the micro switch out for a non-latching one so I can use it as a kill switch…) But what with the splitter and phase switches, you still have a hell of a lot of sounds on tap. For a big old hunk of maple, it isn’t actually too heavy (9 lb?), and it plays great – notwithstanding the ergonomic… difficulty, shall we say, of the Mockingbird shape. That Medieval axe of a top horn is quite a bugger when you’re sitting down. You definitely suspect it was designed to look cool first, and be ergonomic second… scratch that – fourteenth or fifteenth. As a side note, it started out with black pickup rings but those have now been swapped for cream ones, as were more often seen on period B.C. Riches…

It’s been a long post, I know, but hopefully you’ve enjoyed reading about it. I thought it was worth doing since there seems to be so little information about these particular Aria models. Few people seem to even know they exist – not even my dad, an avowed nerd for rare-groove 70s and 80s Japanese guitars. Worth mentioning, too, that it seems Greco also built some copies of early BCR models at around the same time as this Aria was built. Those are also very rare, and due to the possibly more prestigious Greco brand name they’re a bit more expensive – though still nowhere near the price of a 70s Rich.

I’ve always, always wanted an old Mockingbird, and while this guitar is technically a ‘mock-Mockingbird’, it’s absolutely scratched that itch for me. Like all the best 70s Japanese copy guitars, it doesn’t leave me feeling short-changed in the slightest.

ANOTHER belated new guitar day – Jackson DK2M

We’ve all been there, surely – the most tempting guitars appear, seemingly as a taunt from above, at the exact time we can least afford them. My James Tyler – initially I found it as I was in the middle of paying for my Blackmachine, and it slipped away, only to re-enter my life due to pure good fortune (of which more another time). My Tele – I found it when I’d been going through a dry spell in paid gigs, and was not best placed to buy yet another guitar effectively on impulse. And, because I never learn, the story continues.

My local music shop has developed a rather interesting rotation of new and used guitars in recent years, and none interested me more than a certain pointy headstock I saw poking out upon a visit not long ago. I recognised this guitar instantly as a Jackson DK2M, and not the current model either – the version built from around 2006 to 2010 in the old Japanese factory where Jackson built the Pro series, among other things, until operations moved to other countries with cheaper manufacturing.

This would be a lot of guitar for twice the money.

I’d always loved this particular model – my imagination captured way back in my early teens when I spied a review of it in a magazine. The high-contrast black sharkfin inlays and logo on the pale maple fretboard looked unbelievably badass to young me, and the image stayed lodged in my brain. The guitar in the magazine was white, one of the best colours for this model, but the example before me in the shop had another particular thing going for it – it was black. A black, two-humbucker, 24-fret superstrat with a maple fretboard is an aesthetic that is significant to me, because it reminds me of the old ESP M-II that Ben Tovey of Rise To Remain, an early guitar hero of mine who became my guitar teacher when I was fifteen, used to use on stages all over the world.

Anyway – I’ve always thought these guitars were exceptional value. When they were new, they came in hard cases and had proper Seymour Duncan pickups, a not-awful locking bridge and, of course, were made in Japan, but sold for only about 500 sheets. And used, values have remained temptingly affordable – surely they can’t stay this cheap for long.

But for now, the residual values are feeble enough that I’ve managed to become the proud new custodian of a properly awesome, vibey, flamboyant superstrat of a type I’d wanted to rock out on for years. It is currently set up in drop C and being used for all sorts of shred and metal stuff. The Duncans sound great, although may be swapped out in time, and the neck is truly astonishing – every Jackson I play has a superb neck and this is no exception.

Honestly – Japanese Jacksons are still a bargain. Get one now, before everyone realises.

EDIT 11.6.2020 – Here’s a video – some talking and some playing from me.

Belated new guitar day – my first ever Tele

Well, it finally happened. I’ve needed a Tele for an awfully long time.

I’ve had Strats, I’ve had Les Pauls, I’ve had superstrats aplenty, I’ve had a bloody seven-string… I’ve had Flying Vs, LP Juniors and a Jazzmaster, but one thing I have never owned until very recently is a Telecaster. Every time I play it, I wonder what took me so long.

Oh, don’t get me wrong – I’ve played loads of Teles and I’m very familiar with them. Indeed, the first electric guitar I ever played was a Tele, my dad’s mid-80s Japanese Fender blue flower reissue (it took me a few years to realise how lucky I was). My dad’s other mid-80s MIJ Tele (a pink paisley, no less) remained my benchmark for this iconic design for years, and years. The perfect weight, almost hilariously resonant, with a tiny little neck and a gruff bark from its aftermarket Lollar single-coils, it was and remains a fabulous guitar. Every time I put it down, I knew I needed a Tele at some point, but only if it gave me as good a feeling as that one.

Fast forward to February this year (sorry for such a long break between posts, by the way). I’d met up with my friend Pete, a man not short of an excellent guitar or two, and he mentioned that he had a ‘partscaster’ Tele kicking around if I was interested in having a look. A Mexican Road Worn body, and the huge maple neck from the limited edition Brad Paisley signature model. My interest was piqued.

Financially inopportune it may have been, but upon playing this Tele I realised I was in trouble. The huge neck was fantastic, the body was resonant as you like – even louder, if anything, than the 80s pink paisley. The pickups, stock Fender though they may be, growled with the authority one would hope for from a significantly more expensive model. The relic finish is pretty crap though – Fender’s cheapest mass-produced Road Worns, perhaps understandably, can’t really reach a significant degree of realism for the money they cost. It doesn’t bother me unduly though – at some point I imagine I’ll probably cough up for getting it refinished…

Having lived with the guitar for a little while, and gigged it too (pre-lockdown), it is consistently impressive. It’s not one of my more expensive guitars, but it plays and sounds good enough to firmly earn its place alongside guitars I own which cost a lot more. The set-up is perfect, it’s strung with Elixir 10-52s and sounds enormous. And, funnily enough, it is exactly the same weight as the old pink paisley…

New Bass Day…

Yup, it’s a guitar blog by a guitar player, and one of the very first things I’ve written for it is about a bass. But that’s the way it’s worked out – the most recent bit of gear to arrive at Pluckin’ A Towers is my new low-end machine. I’ve had a few over the years, only feeling able to justify one at a time since I’m not a “proper” bass player, but none have quite stuck. I had an Ibanez SR five-string which was very nice, sold that to fund an American-made Fender Dimension Bass five-string which was also very nice, but the bass I couldn’t erase from the back of my mind, over all those years, was a Warwick Thumb, and it had to be the neck-through five-string version.

So I’ve bought one of those.

The Fender sold a week or two ago, and then only a couple of days later, this beautiful example of a Thumb 5 NT appeared on Facebook Marketplace, and for a price I could actually afford having sold the Fender. Jumped on it so damn hard I almost twisted my ankle, obviously.

It turned up a few days ago and I’ve barely put it down – partly because it sounds and feels so great, and partly because it’s so heavy that lifting it off my lap to put it down is a physical effort I’m rarely willing to put myself through.

There will be a fuller review of it in due course, but for now I thought I’d just put up a nice photo or two of it. If you check out my Instagram, you can see a clip or two of it as well.