Got My Mojo Workin'

Ahh the vintage guitar phenomenon...

Why is it that most guitarists and collectors these days are lusting for high dollar guitars that look like their histories might include previous action as scratching posts for lions? Or maybe some might contain some leftover shrapnel embedded deep inside the guitar body as a result of a mine explosion somewhere deep in Vietnam in the late 60's. Especially with Stratocasters, the boys over at the Fender Custom Shop are reeling in the bucks by simulating years of use and abuse by means of a very meticulous manufacturing process, creating wear on their "relic" models down to a tee, specifically where it would have occurred naturally: along the contours and edges due to arm rubbing and dropping, above the pickguard due to overeager strumming, and along the back of the body due to belt rash. Sometimes relic models even go so far as to replicate cigarette burns earned in late night drunken club gigs.

So why would anyone ever pay extra for these models that appear to be not-so-gently used but come with price tags that might otherwise indicate a finish of solid gold? I'm going to answer this question trying to sound as little as possible like an elderly, overweight blues guitarist with a cigarette and whiskey in hand...... but the answer is it's all in the mojo! That's right, I just said mojo. You might ask yourself what exactly that is, and if an exact answer is what you're looking for, stop. It's just a certain charm a guitar gets to it, usually acquired after being nicely broken in, becoming a smooth playing work of art with resonance to die for. Some might say it's when you don't make the guitar speak, but rather it speaks to you. Regardless a guitar without mojo is equivalent to a preacher without a soul. Now, as to whether or not this sought effect can be had by means of a manufacturing process, that is to be debated. I prefer to buy a guitar that suits me and let it gain its own battle scars as I play the bloody hell out of it, but who knows, maybe my opinion would change if I could afford these holy grails of storytelling guitars instant-made in an assembly line.

Correct, some fanboys with too much pocket change pick up relic models for the come-see-how-good-I-am-my-guitar-has-no-paint-because-I've-been-playing-so-long effect. But some aspects of the relicing phenomenon have their technical benefits as well. Sanding the back of the neck isn't always to make it look like you've been playing so long that the finish has worn off. A sanded neck is more quickly and easily maneuverable than one with a heap of gloss finish. And rolling the fretboard edges makes playing much more comfortable than waiting for them to smooth over with time. Nitrocellulose finishes also resonate and age much better than standard polyurethane finishes.

However, the vintage obsession expands as we even treasure our iconic guitar slingers and their prized pieces enough to replicate their wear and tear. Many guitar gods have absolutely beaten their favorite strats over the years, showing traces of the past, carrying on a little legacy from every famous show the artist has ever played. Just look at artists like Stevie Ray Vaughan and his prized "Number One" strat which he has been quoted as saying he holds closer in life than his wife. And then there are others such as Eric Clapton and his "Blackie", or Eddie Van Halen and his "Frankenstein" strat. These stars' legendary guitars were sent into limited edition replica production runs, fetching prices up to or over $25,000 a pop. Worth it? Maybe to some lifetime fans and collectors. Except to me, manufactured mojo makes little sense, and paying extra for a replica of someone else's self-created mojo makes even less. I feel I should add that I once had the opportunity to personally touch an EVH Frankenstein replica guitar (price tag: $25,000), and the electronics jiggled around in the body. Now, not to piss in the cheerios of any EVH strat owners, but there is a point at which aesthetics overtake functionality, and I think this breaks it. I don't understand the concept, but maybe I would if I had $25,000 to spend on a guitar that is best suited as a wall ornament because it's a little too beaten up.

The vintage craze is an unstoppable American obsession. It's not just guitars; look at those cool distressed jeans with the frayed cloth and tiny rips that you might have paid a little more for at Abercrombie. Or that brand new Mustang you might have bought, designed after the ones from the 60's. And people have paid top dollar for antique furniture for decades. It's not just taking place in the world of guitars, and by no means am I knocking the Fender Custom Shop for doing what they do-- they do it well, and the work is nice to look at. And by no means am I knocking anyone with a relic strat-- I'm sure it's got all the mojo in the world. Okay, so maybe I'm knocking a few people who might have bought the Eddie Van Halen strat for 25 grand, but I couldn't write something about relic guitars without knocking someone.

Anyways, I've said my part, and maybe I'll post pictures of my guitar a few years down the road when it has lost its paint as a result of sitting atop Mount Everest after a short stint at the bottom of the Atlantic. And maybe I'll try to be less of a cynical brat next time I post. The first two are setting a trend....

-Mark