Gypsy Queen
Can Alex Bishop rise to the challenge of bringing a road-worn jazz guitar back to its former glory?
As any luthier will tell you, taking on repair work can provide quite an education in guitar building. Recently, a guitar came in through the door that is precisely the kind I relish: an instrument in which there is scope for many small improvements, but which should hopefully add up to quite a lot.
The guitar is a Gypsy-jazz style guitar, instantly bringing to mind vibrant campfire jazz jams associated with the Gypsy-infused music of Django Reinhardt. Deep grooves scar nearly every single fret along the fingerboard, showing all the signs of having enjoyed many blistering arpeggio runs and non-stop la pompe rhythm playing for the last decade at least. I play a few minor 6th chords to see if some of that Manoucheinfused mojo might rub off on me…
Back to the workshop and a brief appraisal reveals the strings are sitting higher above the frets on the treble side of the guitar than the bass side. The reverse is usually true, and, on closer inspection, it appears the floating archtop-style bridge has been put on back-tofront. This provides an easy fix that would be a good start to getting this guitar playing right, but some further investigation is necessary to get things playing perfectly. Once the old corroded strings are off, the poor condition of the fingerboard becomes apparent. Fortunately, I’m mostly looking at a build-up of dirt and grime so, armed with a pair of tough vinyl gloves, it’s time to take out my miniature cabinet scraper and pare away the many years’ worth of unidentifiable gloop.
A common way to restore the playability of a wellused guitar is to either refret it completely, or level the frets with a file. I opt for the latter, given that the wear to the frets is not too extreme in any one spot. Once complete, every fret is ‘crowned’ to ensure the string only sits on a single point at every location. Failure to do this results in a poor tone, as well as noticeably spoiling intonation as you fret notes. The filed surface of each fret has to be finely abraded to a mirror finish to ensure buttery-smooth playability. I daresay I’m now looking at a fingerboard that looks as new as the day it was made.
I restring the guitar with a set of Gypsy-jazz 0.011 to 0.045s. Unlike the bronze acoustic strings with which most of us are more familiar, these silver-plated copper-wound strings are essential for applying the correct amount of tension to the longer scale length of the Gypsy-jazz style guitars, as well as achieving the best sound. Now that I’m working with the right strings and a corrected fingerboard, it’s important to tweak the truss rod to (almost) straighten out the neck once everything is under tension.
Next, some subtle alterations are made at the bridge end and I’m ready to put the guitar through its paces one more time. I check every note sounds just right, ensuring the feel of the neck is balanced and the action is in the ‘sweet spot’ – not too high, not too low.
I then move the fret dots from the US-standard 9th fret to the 10th fret, as per the original 1940s Selmer guitars. This is tricky woodwork, but when it comes to hiding the repair, thankfully the ebony is forgiving. The finishing touch is a new handmade pair of quirky moustache ends, and stepping back it’s hard not to feel as though this battle-hardened axe is smiling back at me in appreciation.
“Deep grooves scar nearly every single fret along the fingerboard, showing all the signs of having enjoyed many blistering arpeggio runs”