Longterm test
A few months’ gigging, recording and everything that goes with it – welcome to Guitarist’s longterm test reports
Let me be frank about something – I think Music Man made a mistake with this guitar. The name is wrong. By rights, the St Vincent should really be called the ‘What’s That?’ model, because every time I take it out of the case, someone blurts out those words, as if by involuntary reflex. It’s like carrying portable astonishment around in a case. It’s certainly a striking instrument: it looks like a Cubist bowtie or perhaps – in this new Heritage Cherry finish – something Ted McCarty might have designed if someone had spiked his drink with acid.
The guitar’s striking but elegant form is partly why I decided to use it for an upcoming Brian Eno retrospective in Bristol. The show is being staged in early June at the city’s Cube Cinema by Bristol musician and arranger Chris Ap Thomas – an avid Eno fan. In guitar terms, the material runs the sonic gamut from seasick jet-flanger riffs on tracks such as Sky Saw, to fast, cerebral Robert Fripp solos on St Elmo’s Fire and Golden Hours. Whatever guitar I use is going to have to be tonally flexible and easy to play – and the St Vincent promises to be all that, but is also undeniably eccentric. I reckon that’s just right for using for a tribute to Eno – an avant-garde infiltrator in the house of rock if ever there was one.
But while I’ve picked up the St Vincent guitar at trade shows and noodled around on it a little before, I haven’t spent a lot of time with this model to date. The instrument was designed with a lot of input from its namesake, St Vincent – aka Annie Clark – who previously used Music Man’s dualhumbucker Albert Lee model. This is sort of funny, because, while both great players, you couldn’t find two artists whose guitar styles are less alike: St Vincent’s playing ranges from anthemic synth-rock riffs, as on Digital Witness, to deft, otherworldly pop hooks as on Birth In Reverse.
Her decision to take a hand in creating her own model was partly prompted by a desire for something more lightweight than the Lee, in the spirit of the vintage Harmony BobKat she had relied upon at one time, and with a form factor that’s more suited to a woman’s frame. One thing she did ask to keep, however, was the Lee’s excellent neck.
Into The Fold
And that is pretty much what you get. The dinky body is crisply hewn from what appears to be a single piece of African mahogany. As someone in the office commented, the plunging V-shaped lines that adorn the guitar’s top are reminiscent of a half-complete piece of origami – something on the way to becoming a stork or a gazelle a couple of folds later. The back of rosewood neck has a handrubbed finish that feels already played-in; its profile is a fulsome but comfortable ‘C’ shape. Three mini-humbuckers offer a broad palette of usefully hum-cancelled tones, but also a little more cut and definition than full-size ’buckers. The Music Man vibrato, meanwhile, is exceptionally stable and smooth.
In play, the St Vincent feels a little less springy and somewhat more linear and precise than my Strat. Plugged straight into a Vox AC15, the mini-humbuckers are clear, contemporary sounding and quiet. All good. The only thing I don’t gel with is the balance. The dense rosewood neck is heavy enough to cause the headstock to dip floorward when you’re not holding the neck up, especially when using a shiny webbing strap. Switching to a suede strap overcomes this gravityinduced lurch by dint of greater friction, but there’s no denying this guitar is a touch neckheavy. Music Man has fitted out this example with its brand-new Paradigm strings, which it reckons are the strongest and most wearresistant Ernie Ball has ever made. I usually play D’Addario NYXLs and these have, at first touch, a similarly polished and premium feel. I’m going to keep this set on over the coming months of the test and see how they fare.
Initial introductions complete, it’s time to take the St Vincent to its first rehearsal for the Eno show. Playing Fripp’s angular, rather mathematical solo to Golden Hours, I’m quickly glad of the guitar’s precise, positive feel, which immediately gives confidence. I’m using a Victory V44 head, which has plenty of punch and headroom. It gels well with the St Vincent, which takes drive pedals well. The guitar’s voice is clear and well-mannered under moderate gain; it doesn’t yield the aggressively trebly Firebird tone that its minihumbuckers might suggest, either.
Once again, the message is plain: this guitar is all about leaving preconceptions at the door and enjoying the thrill of the new. I’m looking forward to using it on stage next month – and promise to report back on how well it (and I) fares covering Brian Eno’s best work…
“The St Vincent should really be called the ‘What’s That?’ model… every time I take it out of the case, someone blurts out those words”