Music Man St Vincent
Writer Jamie dickson Editor-in-Chief Guitarist As Jamie bids a fond farewell to the St Vincent signature model, he wraps things up with an attempt to coax a more vintage-oriented voice from the guitar using three combos
Signature model guitars are funny things. On the one hand they give you an instant thrill of association with a brilliant artist. But, too often, that very strength ends up being an Achilles’ Heel too. It would take a very self-assured guitarist to take an SRV Strat to a blues jam without knowing a single Stevie lick, for example. As such, signature models can turn into a musical statement of intent if you’re not careful. Kudos then, to Ernie Ball and St Vincent for coming up with a guitar that wears its star associations lightly. Yes, the styling is bold, as befits a guitar designed for one of the most original voices in pop, but not as polarising as you might imagine. Everyone in the Guitarist office loved the looks, which were influenced by modern art but which, to my eyes at least, also hint at 1950s car design.
Sonically, the guitar is less easy to quantify. Behind the radical looks, it’s actually a really stable, purposeful guitar with a contemporary voice that is neutral in the best possible sense: versatile, poised and precise. As told in a previous instalment of this longterm test, the St Vincent was used in anger at a Brian Eno tribute show in Bristol and acquitted itself well through a Line 6 Helix LT (which provided the raft of effects needed to cover Eno’s back catalogue) and a Victory Sheriff 44, which is basically a latter-day JTM45.
That particular rig emphasised the clear, clean, modern-rock aspects of the guitar’s voice, but I chanced upon a YouTube video that showed someone using a St Vincent to great effect for greasy blues, too. Watching this, I realised that I had fallen under the spell of the signature guitar without realising it – unconsciously picking it up only when I had art-rock to play. I really hadn’t explored its potential to produce classic blues and rock tones properly yet, so I decided to try it with a couple of small, vintage-voiced combos.
The first was something of a rare bird in its own right: a 1968 Marshall Model 1930 Popular combo that I picked up from Guitarist’s Reader’s Ads column. With only 10 watts of power and two original, 10-inch Celestion speakers, the only way to use this amp is wound up full on all controls, at which point it transforms itself from a rather anodyne vintage practice amp into a snarling, mini-Bluesbreaker that practically levitates off the floor with each note. This revealed a new side to the St Vincent: raw, ragged and very mid-focused. While lots of fun, the inherent brightness and savage mids of the amp combined with those toothy little mini humbuckers to provide almost too much of a good thing. The guitar’s poise was all gone, replaced by tooth and claw. By contrast, plugging it into Nev Marten’s Fender Deluxe Reverb emphasised the guitar’s more composed side, producing glassy, rounded cleans in spades and a clear, contemporary punchiness. It was, again, enjoyable but a little too cool and collected for my tastes.
Finally, I turned to my go-to amp at home: a Dr Z Jaz 20/40. Woodier than the Deluxe Reverb but still Fender-influenced, it was the Goldilocks choice of these three combos. Here the St Vincent’s power and clarity got nicely mussed-up by the Z’s warm, natural crunch – a best-of-both worlds blend that put a grin on my face. So don’t be afraid of being typecast by this particular signature model: that inherent quality and clarity can be sliced so many different ways. I’ll miss it.