PJD Carey Standard
With Dave Burrluck
Concluding my Longtermers time with this superb slice of British craft, I had hoped – like all of us, I imagine – I could have strapped it on and done a gig by now. Instead, its white finish is matching what I can see out of the window. Snow. Even if I could go out for more than an exercise walk and essential shopping, it’s too bloomin’ cold.
In normal times, a few mates would have popped around and no doubt exclaimed, “What’s that?” pointing a finger at the housebound Standard. I can imagine myself telling the backstory and seeing said mates’ expressions change from ridicule to respect as they had a quick strum.Yes, we know guitars have been selling very well over these pandemic times, but taking a punt on a new name that you’ve never played is never going to be easy. An old classic, or one that looks like one (that treat to yourself) is always going to win, isn’t it?
Aside from a pickup swap to check out how the Standard sounds with the nowoptional Cream T pickups – actually pretty close to the Bare Knuckle Boot Camps that were originally fitted – the guitar remains
“There’s another thing going on and that’s how playingtime changes an instrument”
completely stock. I did initially consider trying a coil-split on the bridge humbucker, but both the Bare Knuckle and Cream T bridge are old-school single conductor, so that would mean another pickup change. Even then, both ’buckers sit right in that clear PAF territory and I couldn’t help wondering if I’d be adding something for the sake of it. One reason why PJD founder Leigh Dovey doesn’t like coilsplits is that they sort of take something away from the guitar, something to fiddle with while you should be playing. When a guitar sounds as good as this, I’m in agreement.
Yet just as this design has proved to me, it’s a hugely versatile platform. Its construction – chambered ash body, roasted maple bolt-on neck – may shout ‘Fender’, but the sounds from either the Bare Knuckle or Cream T neck-placed soapbars suggest old Gibson, including those late-50s jazz masters (the players, not the later solidbody) when paired with a clean amp tone. And attempting to sharpen my jazz chops during lockdown, it’s a sound I’ve really enjoyed. If I don’t sound like Joe Pass, it’s got nothing to do with this guitar!
There’s another thing going on here and that’s how playing-time changes an instrument. I have zero scientific backup for this assumption, but the ‘young’, almost over-eager voice when I first tested the guitar seems to have matured, even after a couple of string changes. The highs sound less sharp and I’d swear there’s more depth to its voice, too. The neck’s thin satin nitro has certainly burnished up to a rich sheen, while even everyday use has worked its way into the very lightly finished ash grain, darkening it and giving those vivid grain lines a little more contrast. The relatively sharp chamfered edge is also beginning to wear a little over the forearm position. I can’t help thinking after a few long gigs it’ll look even better. Now, that’s not good news for those of you who like your instruments pristine, but the PJD proposition seems to shout ‘gig me’. If only.
Speaking with Leigh at the start of 2021, however, things are moving apace at PJD HQ. You might have noticed news of the Woodford Classic in our previous issue’s Gas Supply. With a trio of Bare Knuckle Boot Camp single coils, this model will start at £999 with an £84 upcharge for an HSS layout. Astonishing value for a British handmade guitar.
“The only thing that comes from overseas is the hardware because it’s made in Japan,” comments Leigh. “But all the woodwork, and everything else, is all done here in-house. People can be suspicious about ‘how are they doing that? It must be made in China and put together here.’ But it’s 100 per cent Britishmade.” It’ll also be offered in 11 different nitro colours, and Leigh is also looking at more available body woods, including paulownia, and has promised to send down a couple of Classics as soon as the paint is dry.
If the Woodford Classic is anywhere near close to this superb Carey Standard, we’ll be in for a treat and one that won’t break the bank. Considering the post-Brexit confusion, these past months have made me think: when guitars are as good as this, shouldn’t we be buying closer to home?