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Guitar builders create dream collection

by David GUNTER<br
| September 19, 2009 9:00 PM

SANDPOINT — Beginning in the 1950s, a sickness swept across America until, by the end of the 20th Century, it had become a global epidemic. The malady continues to affect both men and women, but studies have shown that males are far more prone to come down with the illness.

Professionals call it Guitar Lust. Once it strikes, the victim has no choice but to obsessively collect one instrument after another. Millions of wives and girlfriends have sought help for their mates, hoping to put an end to this sickness. To date, though, no cure has been found.

Tony Gunderson, who has this disease, knows it by another name.

“It’s called GAS — Guitar Acquisition Syndrome,” he said.

Gunderson is one of the lucky sufferers. When he wants a new guitar, he goes out to his workshop and builds it.

The process started about two years ago when Gunderson and his woodworker friend, Todd Jannsen, were talking about the infinite coolness of Stratocasters, Les Pauls and the other guitars and basses Gunderson had on his dream list of musical instruments. After a few Web searches, the two had ordered the plans and electrical components they needed to build the first guitar in a collection that has now grown to nearly a dozen models.

“I’m always up for a challenge and he was telling me how hard they are to build,” Jannsen said. “I told him, ‘If you can get me a blueprint, we can put one together.’  Two days later, we had a blueprint.”

Most of Gunderson’s arsenal is made up of Gibson Les Paul replicas — an electric guitar named after its inventor, virtuoso musician and recording studio pioneer Les Paul, who passed away last month at the age of 94. Along with the Fender Stratocaster, the Les Paul is the most recognized, best-selling electric guitar in the world.

“But Leo Fender’s thing was mass production — you bolt the Stratocaster together,” Gunderson pointed out. “The Les Paul is a hand-made guitar.”

The first two instruments that came out of Gunderson’s shop were carved by hand. After that, the builders moved to molds and jigs specifically designed to create the precise, flowing contours on the Les Paul’s violin-like top and back.

“I like all the hand work involved,” Jannsen said. “For me, the most fun is the carving, the sanding and the finishing.”

Their first guitar took about 30 hours of woodworking and another 40 hours to figure out the wiring. Soldering, they admitted, was not a natural talent for either of them.

Gunderson has since been afflicted with another guitar-related disorder.

“I’m so addicted to eBay,” he said. “Every time the UPS truck pulls up, my wife says, “What have you ordered now?’”

The deliveries often contain parts the builder uses to finish his other guitars — mostly versions of the popular “Strat” in an assortment of colors and combinations. But it’s not a random process, according to Gunderson. Each piece is selected for its impact on the final product.

“Everything you stick on your guitar has a different sound,” he said. “It’s all about tone.

“For instance, Stevie Ray Vaughan put a ‘59 neck on his ‘62 Strat body,” he added. “He did that for a reason. He liked the way it played and the way it sounded.”

Lately, Gunderson and Jannsen have started to explore a different side of instrument making. Once a guitar is complete, they begin the meticulous process of abusing it. In the guitar trade, it’s known as “relicking.”  And, when done by an expert, it can cost as much or more than the instrument itself.

“Oh, man — those guys make tons of money doing that,” Gunderson said. “Relicking is all about making it look like the natural wear that comes when a guitar has been played a lot for a long time.”

A bit of rubbing compound applied with wet and dry sandpaper can make the finish on a Strat look old beyond its years. Dangle chrome parts over a container of sulfuric acid and the fumes will eat away at the shine until it appears to have been leaned in the corner of some blues bar for a generation or more. A dab of salt and vinegar compound on the screw heads will rust them nicely, the builder said, taking off the telltale gleam that bespeaks newness.

Final touches can include using a razor blade to replicate the lacquer “checks” that happen when wood expands and contracts; adding a few choice dings by purposefully banging the guitar body against the edge of a sharp-cornered metal cabinet or striking it with a set of car keys and, as the pièce de résistance; a cigarette burn or two on the peghead to make it look as if Keith Richards borrowed your axe for a Rolling Stones gig.

Gunderson has one particular Stratocaster that bears all of these scars, plus a few more. When other players drop by the shop, they usually think he has acquired a vintage guitar for his growing collection.

“People have looked at that Strat and said, ‘Gosh, that looks like it must be at least 40 years old,’” Gunderson said. “I guess that’s the ultimate compliment.”

The Les Paul guitars built in the shop, however, remain clean and pristine. They are, Gunderson said, his babies. Jannsen feels the same way about the instrument, which has been the favorite guitar of artists from Jimmy Page and The Edge to Jeff Beck, Pete Townsend and Slash.

“I think there’s a market for this kind of hand-made guitar,” said Jannsen, who has encouraged his friend to build them for sale.

“It would be a dream to make and sell guitars, but it takes a lot of time, money and equipment,” Gunderson said. “By the time we get done with one, we’ve probably got $400 in materials. To me it’s just fun to do.

“Would I be able to sell one of these?” he went on, looking across the shop at his bevy of beauties lined up on instrument stands. “No. That would be like selling one of my kids.”