Monday, January 4, 2016

Cigar Box Guitar (CBG) coming soon!


     So I swung into the local tobacco shop today and I finally got lucky. I found a cool cigar box that is large enough to create a decent build with. Most are way too small for my taste. It's a pretty cool box with just one flaw. It has a pretty good scratch right on the front. This is "Scratch Guitars" we are talking about though. I am trying to decide weather or not to go relic or modern on this one.
    I'm undecided as there's been a little mud slinging in the CBG community forums as to what constitutes a "CBG" guitar. In it's truest form... I do not make Cigar Box Guitars. My boxes or guitar bodies have either been store bought or I have salvaged boards from pallets or purchased wood and created the box myself to suit the needs of the guitar. To the purists, this seems to be blasphemy. You see, the origin of the CBG stems from people who were too poor or didn't have the resources to purchase an instrument. They would create their own guitar or banjo or fiddle by using what ever materials that they did have. This was commonly a cigar box, maybe a broom stick or a board for a guitar neck. They might use some fencing wire as strings. You get the idea.
     So there are different opinions on this as some people claim that it has to be created from "found" parts. Others believe that every aspect should be "Handmade". Some think that every part should be either handmade or a "repurposed" item, like using a door hinge for a tailpiece or a bathroom sink drain for a sound hole cover. In truth, the term CBG has become a generic term used to describe basically a homemade instrument that has anywhere from 1-6 strings. People will squabble about what is handmade vs. hand built vs. assembled etc. I have even been informed that they way I build guitars is "still art, but a lesser form", because I use some store bought parts that are designed for the job. It's hard not to be offended when someone is politely trying to tell you that your work is cool but it's not still not on par with what they do because they used a drawer handle for a bridge instead of buying an actual guitar bridge. I mean, if you want to chain a beaver to a tree and call it a chainsaw that's up to you. I'll just grab an actual chainsaw and be sip'n lemonaide while you are poking that beaver with a stick. I think the beaver idea is pretty stinking awesome as long as you like the results. But it's not typically what I'm after. Sometimes it is. I refuse to pigeonhole myself. It stifles my creativity.
    Though there is a great amount of creativity in my guitars they are firstly guitars, not artwork. Art hangs on walls, my guitars get played. I'm not trying to create the Mona Lisa of CBG's. I'll leave it to Paul Reed Smith or Gibson to create $4,000 guitars that never make it out of their display cases. I don't have any interest in making relic guitars that look like they were pulled out of an abandoned 1920 barn, suitable to be put in a historical museum. In all fairness though, I have decided that I will no longer refer to my guitars as "CBG's". They are not made from cigar boxes. I produce creative one of a kind 4-string guitars.
     So back to the question at hand...relic or modern with this new cigar box find? I want to go relic to prove that I can be just as creative as the next guy when building a relic guitar. However, with the candy red color all I can see is shiny gold hardware and scream'n electronics with LED lights on the inside. I think I'll save the faux museum-grade guitar for some other cigar box in the future. I have nothing to prove right now.

Get Scratched!

Sunday, January 3, 2016

Lessons Learned - Future Builds

So I just finished "The Redeemer" guitar right before Christmas. It was a particularly stressful build that made me question whether or not I would continue to offer personalized guitars or just create guitars completely of my own design and put them up for sale as custom one-offs.  I don't think I'm ready to throw in the towel just yet. I learned that communication is the key. I also learned that it is not manageable for me to work with hard deadlines when I'm trying to be creative. With the crunch of the holidays approaching and some major changes having to be done on the Redeemer, my stress level was through the roof. I basically would lose sleep worrying about it every night. On about 4-5 hours sleep I would get up at 4:45 am for my normal 40+ hour job. Pull 8-10 hrs. there, pick up my kids from school. After that I would head straight into my little 9x12 workshop and work on this guitar until I either ran out of parts or had to wait for paint and clear-coat to dry. The Redeemer delivered on Christmas Eve morning. At that point I had not once stepped foot into a store to do any holiday shopping for anyone. I kind of feel like I blew the whole build-up to Christmas with my own family because I was trying make deadlines. Even after all that, I think I can still offer up some sweet personalized guitars. I just have to be realistic about deadlines and what the customer can expect.
   
When ever possible it is best to actually sit down with the customer to explain my processes and what it takes to build one of these guitars. Ask every question possible about every step involved to insure that they will get the guitar they want. I am a little torn though. I mean, I am Scratch Guitars, right?!? At some point there has to be some degree of "My" creative expression as well. Otherwise why wouldn't I just go get a job at Guitar Center if I wanted to sell someone elses idea of what a guitar should be. At least then I wouldn't be slaving over a cluttered workbench stressing about the outcome. The pay would suck but then I don't really make any money to speak of building and selling my own once you take into consideration how many hours go into one of these. I worked on the "Gritty Detroit" guitar off and on for at least 3 months. A little here, a little there. Never the less, it took some time. Once you figure that half of the money you earned from the build pays for the parts, there's not much left over.

The money isn't why I build guitars. I think it is the therapeutic side of it. I get the same sense of calm when I am building that I get when I am fishing. Thinking about nothing and everything all at the same time. It's hitting that roadblock in your build and you just have to pull up a stool, crack a beer and stare at it. You know that there's an answer for the roadblock, you just have to wait. It will eventually come to me and then I go back to work on it. It's like figuring out a puzzle or a riddle. Then there's the nervous build up right when you are putting the strings on. Not know what it is going to play like or if it will sound great or be a pile of fancy firewood. Ultimately the biggest payoff is seeing the reaction when the new owner takes it in there hands and they like it as much as I do.

So.... I have at least two more customers lined up right now. My plan is to sit down with both of them and get a clear understanding of what they would like their guitars to consist of. We will look at other guitars online, throw some ideas around based on what I am capable of doing. Once all the design phase is finished I will start ordering parts and getting more sawdust on the floor. My next two builds will not be rushed. I expect them to be some of my best works. I am really looking to hone in on my strengths and make some magic in the shop. Here's to 2016!

Get Scratched!



Scratch - The Meaning Behind The Name

When thinking about a cool name for these guitars, I was reminded of the movie that got me interested in Blues music. "Crossroads", (not the Britney Spears movie but the Ralph Macchio / Steve Vai movie). There is the scene at the end of the movie when Willie Brown gets back to the "Crossroads" to reconcile his deal with Papa Legba (basically the voodoo version of St. Peter). Side note: Papa Legba, happens to be the one that Robert Johnson supposedly sold his soul to, in return for fame. Once Willie Brown & Lightning Boy reach the old crossroads where Willie had made his deal with Legba, he is greeted by Legba's assistant. Well ol' Willie Brown asks Legba's assistant "What time he comin' round?" The assistant retorts, "What time WHO, comin' round?" Willie tells him, "I'm talkin' about Legba!" To which the assistant replies..."Legba?!? Where you been slick? He done changed his name to SCRATCH!"

That scene always stuck with me. The whole guitar duel, cutting heads scene. As a 15 year old just starting to play guitar, it had everything you could ask for. I liked Stevie Vai already, but this was my introduction into the likes of Robert Johnson and that muddy, gritty sound of what I like to call "Swampy Delta Blues". The sound of a slide guitar moaning out them blues was a winner for me.

So, I thought "Scratch Guitars" was a cool name for my projects. Based in blues and humble beginnings. On the surface, a scratch on your guitar is something that we try to avoid. However over time you will find that it is exactly those scratches that make your guitar, yours. Your guitar bares the scars of your time together. It's a relationship. Those scratches make your guitar unique and a one of a kind. Look at any guitar hero that's out there and upon close inspection of their guitars you will find that instead of being pristine, they are actually beat up and scratched all to hell because they were loved enough not to be replaced. I have seen where you can spend upwards of $20,000 to have a replica of Van Halen's "Frankenstein" guitar. An artisan will use his craft to "replicate" everything from dents and dings to the burn marks from Eddie's cigarettes that were stuck under the strings on the headstock. The people that would buy this would not be able to tell you where each scratch came from. It's not their sweat that darkened the wood grain. You can't pre-fabricate a relationship with someone else's guitar.

Be an original. Play your own guitar. That relationship with a guitar starts like any relationship, with an introduction.

I would like to introduce to you... Scratch Guitars!

Get Scratched!