Longterm Test
A few months’ gigging, recording and everything that goes with it – welcome to Guitarist ’s longterm test report
In recent conversation with a UK guitar dealer, the term “a guitar for our times” came up, which really resonated with me. And the reason that particular phrase stuck was because of a light-hearted conversation I’d had with Fender’s Tim Shaw earlier this year at the NAMM Show in California. Fender had just taken the wraps off its Acoustasonic Stratocaster, a year after releasing the first Telecaster version, and we were discussing how lightweight guitars such as the Acoustasonics were just great to have at home. I’d put forward the point that, increasingly, the electric guitar – originally designed to be played live, loud and with a band – was being used less and less in this sort of setting, citing the endless YouTube videos of players noodling around on their own or with a colleague.
By the nature of both its mainly solidbody design and the materials used to make it, this potentially heavy lump makes sense if you’re using it for its primary purpose. But played seated without a band or an audience – at least that the player can actually see, hear or smell – isn’t it becoming redundant? “I mean, I don’t know why companies put strap buttons on guitars any more. Does anyone use them?” I provocatively suggested. Back in January, of course, neither of us had any idea of what was around the corner…
Has your engagement with your guitars changed over these past gig-less months? Mine has. My full-fat Les Paul has been used for reference-testing only. Even my acoustics seem too loud with the other half watching TV in the next room. No, if I’m honest, I’ve been playing with headphones on, honing my rusty recording skills, and playing along to many a classic, looking for new licks and ideas. I can’t remember using a strap for anything more than checking a review guitar’s balance.
A considerable distance away from Tim Shaw’s laboratory in Nashville, a young guitar maker, Leigh Dovey, has been making waves, or at least some pretty noticeable ripples, with his PJD Guitars – instruments I’ve very much enjoyed. There’s none of the hi-techery of that Acoustasonic, granted, but Leigh’s Carey model is a chambered design that might not be new but is exceptionally well suited to where we find ourselves today. It comes in three flavours from the entrypoint all-swamp ash-bodied Standard, to the Elite with a bound-edge maple top, and up to the exotic-topped Custom. They share light weight and a vibrant resonance: electric guitars that have enough unplugged sound to enjoy and, unlike that Les Paul, they sit perfectly when played seated on your lap.
The start-up Carey Standard pairs the design to its essence, and, like many modern ‘fusion’ designs, certainly mixes up the benchmark recipes: a Fender scale bolt-on neck with a slightly enlarged slab-style single-cut body. It’s through-strung like a Tele, but uses the ‘wrong’ bridge. It’s got a humbucker in bridge position with a P-90 at the neck. While the shoulder-placed three-way toggle switch is familiar, the more Junior-style and widely spaced master volume and tone controls initially feel a little alien.
We look at a guitar and immediately begin to imagine its sound and style, don’t we? But some weeks into my test I’m struggling to pigeonhole this guitar. That’s not a negative at all for me, but I suspect for many it could be. Why? Conditioning: we hear with our eyes. The Carey comes with or without an f-hole, which doesn’t make much difference to the instrument, but visually an f-hole has quite an impact – “Oh, that’s a ‘semi’, then: it’s for jazz.”
This visual labelling is another artefact of our time. In truth, it is a superb ‘jazz’ guitar, but that’s got little to do with its f-hole or not. Take the Standard, with its Bare Knuckle Bootcamp P-90 married to this frame and some tone and volume roll-off; you’d swear you were hearing something more-like an ES-330.“But it’s a swamp ash bolt-on,” you declare.“How can it sound like that?” It can sound like quite a few other guitars, too, not least when you’re recording. Yes, that response is very new-sounding, but its balance (sonically), resonance and texture are a lot more vintage Les Paul Special/ Telecaster. It’s a lively, dynamic drive.
So, as many of us turn to recording and songwriting while we await some chances of live performance, this Standard steps up. Our weighty roadhogs remain cased; this lightweight, vibrant instrument really does seem like a guitar for these times. And aside from checking the strapped-on balance when I’d reviewed it, I still haven’t used those strap buttons…
“Some weeks into my test I’m struggling to pigeonhole this guitar. And that’s not a negative at all…”