Why so shiny?
Everything in our modern world is shiny, glossy, plastic. It’s everywhere. Somehow this has become a marker of quality.
But I’m not convinced. As I’ve progressed in my building and tried new finishes, the main thing I’ve discovered is that a lot can be hidden with modern finishes, which is why they’ve become the standard in mass produced guitars.
Sanding scratches? Cover them.
Dents? Lay on the sealer and sand it flat.
These things are much harder to hide with thinner, oil finishes, which is maybe why I find them so satisfying. You wipe them on and they reveal any imperfection. The only way to address these is to go back to sanding, up through increasingly finer grits until you’re ready to try finishing again.
The whole process really is great. Sure, it takes more effort, but those efforts are rewarded. I can work slowly, paying attention to the details, and I can course correct as needed.
The other thing I’ve noticed is that precision can be be highlighted by an oil finish. You can keep lines crisper, and they look great. With lacquer finishes, it’s actually better to soften lines so the the film can build evenly, and to avoid the chance of sanding through the finish in those areas.
Ultimately, oil finishes provide something that a lacquer can never do, not even satin or matt - bring warmth and a direct connection to the timber. There’s a depth to the timber that oil brings out. It’s in the top layer of the timber, not just on it. And the way you can feel the grain is a welcome change from the lifeless expanse of gloss that we’re so often surrounded by. It’s a reminder that these instruments are made from nature. They’re made to be experienced with all senses.
When it comes to the instruments I build, lacquer is out. Oil is in.
Getting back on track.
It’s been quite the journey since I last wrote anything here! One huge trip around Australia, back into another busy wedding season, and now trying to organise my year and figure out the best way to move forward and grow. It’s a bit of a head scratcher at times, but I’m getting there.
The good news is that we’re actively reducing the amount of Wedding photo/video work we’re taking on, and freeing up more time for me to build! There will be less interruptions to my workflow, and hopefully I can reduce wait times. I also have a bit more time to work on new ideas, as you’ll see with the introduction of a new (old) guitar shape, and officially adding basses to the mix!
While it looks like I’ll have a full season of builds to work through, books are officially open for orders again! It’s likely that any new orders will be for 2025, however.
In the meantime, I’ll be adding all the good stuff back onto the website to help people navigate my models and options.
Cheers!
Going off-road.
If you’ve been following me on insta, you’ll know that 2023 is the year of adventure!
My family and I are packing our lives into a caravan and hitting the road for 5 months, and doing almost a full lap of Australia. In 3 days we’ll hop on the big boat, then head west across the Nullarbor. We’ll take our time heading up the coast through Shark Bay, Ningaloo, Exmouth, inland to Karijini, then Broome, Kununurra, Darwin, all the way across to Longreach, then down through outback Queensland, New South Wales and Victoria.
Of course, this means I’m not building guitars for a while. I have a waitlist going, so if you’re interested head back to the homepage and fill in the form down the bottom.
When I’m back home I’ll go through the list and begin working out build timelines and contacting people on the waitlist.
Prices start at $5,500aud plus shipping.
Fully booked!
Well, the call for orders has been a great success, and all the spots are filled! 7 guitars in total - 5 custom builds and 2 builders choice (which have been spoken for). There’s some really exciting builds in this batch, and I’m looking forward to refining the process and taking things up a notch.
All going well, I’ll be able to make a solid start on them this month and have them wrapped up in July/August.
Once this batch is complete wedding season will be closing in, so I’ll be slowing down quite a bit. Over the warmer months I’ll be focusing on building a few new designs I’ve got set aside - these will be my personal builds, and prototypes for a slightly new direction I’d love to take things!
Recently completed.
Although I’m still in wedding season and editing full time, I’ve been able to start spending a bit of time wrapping up some projects that have been lingering.
This thin-line Silas is on it’s way to the U.S for a very patient customer! It’s been a challenging build, mostly in trying to get the finish right. It’s a vibrant guitar, and the pickup choice (Righteous Sound pickups) works so well together - the middle pickup has its own volume control so you can run it solo or blend it with the other pickups. The Descendant vibrato and bridge is some incredible gear too.
This Gideon bass is nearly ready for assembly - a day spent dressing the frets and wiring it up will get me to the finish line. The Swamp Ash body is super light-weight, and I’m expecting the Aguilar pickups will deliver the vintage tones!
Another Silas almost ready to go! With all the complexity of my thin-line designs, it’s nice to build a simple solid body. The Red Cedar body will be light and resonant!
Order spots open!
My wife and I have been journeying through what it means to work, parent, live and all that fun stuff. We’ve been pretty lucky to end up in the position we are, working for ourselves and creating time and space to do what we love, while planning some exciting adventures before the kids get too big.
But it means my future in guitar building is a bit uncertain, so J.Parsons Guitars will be put into (temporary) retirement in 2023 and beyond.
As a final hurrah I’ve decided to offer up 5 build slots, plus another 2 “builders choice” that will be available for sale once complete.
For the 5 open slots, I’ll be keeping things simple with limited options so that I’m actually able to complete them in a timely manner. These include:
Gideon or Silas shape
Choice of McNelly Soapbar models (Gold Foils, Stagger Swagger, Cornucopia, Autumn, P90 etc.)
Top finish colour
Roasted Maple or Tas Blackwood neck
Choice of Chrome or Gold hardware
Pick-guard shape on the Gideon
Pick-guard and binding colour
Standard features include:
6-inline headstock shape
Macassar Ebony fingerboard
25” scale, 12” radius neck
Chambered Tas Blackwood body
Binding on top side, rounded over back edge
Satin Lacquer Finish.
Gotoh 510 tuners
Les Trem with roller bridge
Mono Vertigo Case
I don’t have a huge amount of different colours at my disposal, but I can usually track things down. I won’t be able to offer anything wild though.
Build prices will be $4,000aud, with $200aud shipping worldwide. A deposit of $1,200aud gets you locked in.
To secure a build, send through an email using the contact form and we can chat about details, and I can create a computer mock-up with your chosen colour etc!
Gideon ES
Gideon MST
Silas
What’s essential?
This phrase is something I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, due to the reading and reflection I’ve been doing.
When it comes to my guitar building, I’ve been eager to explore all possible avenues, continuing to improve my craft. Finishes have been an ongoing experiment, with plenty of tests conducted, plus countless hours and money wasted trying new finishes. Eventually I come back to what I know and trust, which is Livos Kunos #243.
Every now and then I get the itch to try something new, usually to make my guitars fit in with the crowd or to make them appear more “professional”. Recently I started imagining my guitars with a more glossy finish, and started working out how to achieve that, but eventually had to stop and ask myself “is this essential?”.
What I mean by this is, does it fit in with what I’m truely trying to achieve? If I think about the core of what J.Parsons Guitars stands for, does this get me closer?
Ultimately, no. In fact, it takes me in the opposite direction.
Since the early days, J.Parsons Guitars has been about celebrating the unique beauty of Tasmanian timbers, especially Blackwood. While a smooth, glossy finish looks professional and is more durable, you lose part of the experience - the tactile sensation of the timber. The open pores of Blackwood feel silky smooth when sanding to a high grade and lightly oiled.
So my quest now is to find an oil that will highlight that part, while providing moisture resistance and reasonable durability. I’m putting two to the test, up against my old faithful Livos.
Both of the Livos oils and the Organoil use a citrus based solvent, which is much more friendly on the lungs and the environment. Based on my experience so far the Organoil takes far too long to dry, and requires some extra work. The Livos Bivos oil wax is supposed to be used as a top coat over Kunos, but my experiments as a stand-alone finish are proving positive. The big test will be water resistance once it’s cured.
While I’m fond of Kunos, it’s fairly thick and builds a film which can feel a bit sticky and plasticky, whereas the Bivos is thin and soaks into the timber more, building less of a film. I’m guessing the wax content helps it feel smoother too.
I’ll probably land on the Bivos in the end. This should help me enhance the tactile sensation of playing a guitar made some of the finest timbers Tasmania has to offer!.
Guitars and Essentialism.
My life can get pretty busy sometimes. I effectively have three jobs, with guitar building, wedding photography/videography, and a day doing graphic design/media for my church. It’s usually pretty easy to juggle, with weddings being seasonal, but sometimes it all hits at once. That seems to be happening to me right now, as it does around this time of year every year. So I’ve been reading and exploring some productivity concepts to get me through.
Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport was my first stop on the journey, mostly to get myself un-stuck from the constant distraction of the social media world I’d been sucked into. Then Cal’s book called Deep Work, which is all about putting this new found focus to work. He goes into something called Time Block Planning, which has been vital to keeping my head above water in this busy patch, making sure jobs are getting checked off in a timely manner, but mostly making sure my focus can remain on the tasks at hand instead of trying to decide what step to do next.
Cal’s Deep Questions podcast has also been a huge help, and it’s where I was fully introduced to the concept of Essentialism, laid out by Greg Mckeown. I decided to dig deeper by reading his book on the topic. It’s been a huge eye opener for me, and I’ve been able to see immediate applications in my life and work. Especially in the areas that seem to pile up on me all at once and cause me huge amounts of anxiety.
So how does this affect my guitar building?
Well, it begins with my values, and making sure the outcomes are serving the values, not clashing with them or preventing them from coming to fruition. I sat down and wrote them out, and came to the conclusion that I’m stretched too thin to effectively meet my goals and values. So what do I need to do?
Strip things right back to the core of J.Parsons Guitars.
For the foreseeable future, I’m only going to offer one model - the Gideon. It’s the model that sums up my whole aesthetic, and offers the most scope with options. It’s by far my most popular model anyway. I’ll offer a set list of options, and only work within those. This will really allow me to deep dive into the processes in guitar building, refining them for greater efficiency and improved quality.
To a degree, it’s an extension of an idea that I’ve been exploring already, only now it appears more valid. But it’s not just about efficiency and quality, or even the promise of extra profit - by streamlining the process, I can focus more attention on the extra stuff that can make buying a custom guitar a unique experience.
So beginning in 2021, I’m going to work at a more complete experience - a customer questionnaire to help me get a better idea of the player I’m building for. I’ll also take more regular photos of the build process and send regular updates to keep customers informed. I’m also exploring the idea of a beautifully printed photo book of the entire build. A nice little keepsake and conversation starter!
To sum it up, I’m trading possible guitar options for a better experience for each customer, which I think is a better outcome, don’t you?
Two kinds.
I’ve spent plenty of time (and money) exploring different tone wood, looking at the way the work under tools, how they interact with different elements of the guitar, and how they look once finished.
Ebony is a timber that I absolutely adore - not the jet black stuff that a lot of people expect, but the stripy kinds that show plenty of character.
I had been working through a stash of Gabon Ebony, which is now depleted, and grew to love the variations in colour, and it’s fine grained hardness. I decided to order a batch of Macassar Ebony, which is often quite brown with distinctive stripes running throughout, and have been enjoying what I’m getting from that species!
I’ve come to see that they both have their place - while harder than Rosewood, Macassar Ebony has a similar look to it, with rich brown tones and a more open, coarser grain. I’ll offer this as an alternative to Rosewood, which is still hard to import/export, despite the CITES regulations being lifted.
When it comes to Gabon Ebony, that’ll be my default. I think the black/grey tones are a nice contrast to the brown-ness of Tas Blackwood, and helps break up the colour palette a bit.
Which ever species you end up with my boards are dry and stable, CNC slotted, and sourced from a sustainable harvester. Gotta look after this precious resource!
Macassar on the left, Gabon on the right.
progress.
These last two weeks have been busy for me outside the workshop. Wedding season has started, which means photos and videos are a focus for me. That said, I’ve still got four to finish by the end of the year, so I snuck into the workshop to keep things moving forward!
waiting patiently for the next step.
It’ll be a juggle, but there’s a break between weddings coming up, so I’ll be able to put my head down a bit more and push through. Stay tuned!
why didn't I do this earlier?
I don’t normally make rash tool purchases. I normally over think things, and end up spending my money on something else instead.
I decided it was time to buy an oscillating spindle sander, so I did! I took it for its first run today, using it to clean up the sides of four guitar blanks after routing them to shape.
Usually I would spent about an hour sanding the router marks out of the sides, and it was dirty work - dust mask on, two dust filter fans going, and sore hands at the end of it.
The spindle sander cuts this down to about 15 minutes, all while my dust extractor is sucking all the nasty dust away, leaving a spotless work area!
My next step is to incorporate my new scroll saw into the process, working in tandem with this machine to reduce my need use the router, and hopefully room for error.
Ashnah Bass No.1
What seems like years ago, I started on a new bass design. Completely Hollow, and bigger than anything I've built before. It’s getting close to the end of 2020, but I’m keen to get it making noise before the year ends. The hardware should land in the next week, so hopefully I can squeeze in a bit of time to sand it and put some finish on it!
The bare bones - makes for a very light instrument!
Slow down.
Here I am, sat at my bench with freshly made coffee and treato baked by my wife. It’s raining pretty steadily outside and the sound on the roof is all that I hear. There are no machines running, no music playing, just rain. I’m taking my time marking out a neck blank to cut, and I’m enjoying the peaceful pace.
I realised how slowly I’ve been moving lately. I don’t have the same frantic feeling I normally have, where everything buzzes around me and I’m in a race to get everything done, all the same. I can only pin this down to a break from social media. It really does mess with your brain, crying out for your attention, even from a locked phone across the room.
Just a week without the constant stream of information has allowed my brain to settle down a bit, and start to enjoy the little things again.
The angle of the dangle.
Over the years I’ve gone back and forth between flat and angled headstocks. They each have their pros and cons, both from a building perspective, and as an end user. I’ll discuss a bit of those here, and share where I’ve landed after it all.
The flat headstock is synonymous with Fender style instruments. The headstock is on the same plane as the fingerboard, just set back a little bit to help with string angle over the nut. From a user perspective it’s rock solid, lessening fears that a tumble will bring tragedy (fears our Les Paul owning friends are familiar with) and is a fairly elegant construction method. It seems they work best in a 6-inline layout, probably just due to our conditioning - people are just used to seeing a 3x3 layout with an angled headstock.
When it comes to construction, they’re a breeze. It’s a slab of wood with a fingerboard and the appropriate setback. Done. Making a neck could be a one day affair if you’re keen.
The biggest con with this style of headstock is string angle over the nut. Because it’s different for every string, things can feel a bit un-even, and string trees are required to keep the angle steep enough on certain strings. It’s not an elegant solution, and without care can cause some tuning issues, but it’s one that has done the job for the last 70 years.
The angled headstock brings it’s own issues - drop it, and it’s more likely to break. Too steep an angle (I’m looking at you Gibson) and you’ve also got tuning problems from the strings snagging in the nut. They’re a bit harder to build too, especially if you want to make them strong. But there’s something elegant about the look - no need for string trees, no curved transition, just a flat surface that gently angles away, taking the strings with it.
Despite the added complexities of building this style, it’s the way I’m choosing to do it from here on in - for guitars at least, I’m still undecided what to do with basses.
The pros outweigh the cons, and the cons can be dealt with to some degree.
I’m going with an 8º angle - shallow, but not too shallow. That should help rigidity and overall strength.
I’m also laminating the neck from 3 pieces, with fine veneer between each. For starters, it looks swish. Classy AF, as the kids would say. But it has the added advantage of turning the flat sawn timber I use into quarter sawn, much better for stiffness.
I also plan to go a bit thinner with my headstocks - not much, but I’ve noticed a change in resonance from a thinner head. The faceplate will help reinforce this area, making it stiff and strong.
There’s a fair bit of added time and effort involved in building necks like this, but it’s all worth it in the end!
Zero fret?
Here’s a new(ish) feature to my guitars that will become permanent! After working on a number of vintage instruments with zero frets and making a few test instruments, I’m a convert.
It’s not a particularly common thing to see, and there seems to be some strange opinions about it. But before I get into some of those, let’s talk about what a zero fret is and what it does.
As the picture shows, it’s an extra fret very close to the nut. It actually sits at the point that a nut otherwise would, marking the start of the instrument’s scale length. A nut would normally do a few jobs - mark the start of the scale length, set the height of the strings at that end of the neck, and provide a guide for the strings to pass through. By adding a zero fret, all the nut has to do is guide the strings.
This is good, because you can focus on getting the nut slots just right - not too tight that they’d grab the strings and cause tuning issues, and not too wide that the strings might rattle in their slots. Of course, you can do this with a regular nut, but it can be a bit trickier to make the adjustments without affecting the string height.
By giving the other two jobs to a zero fret, you’ll get some benefits. When it comes to setting string height, a fret is much easier. You just level it with all the other frets, and make sure it has a clean crown. But it seems to sit lower without causing fret buzz, making that end of the neck feel a bit easier to play. Tuning is slightly improved too. Another benefit is that you open string notes will sound more consistent with your fretted note, because they are effectively fretted too. Bone (or plastic) and fret-wire impart a different sound to your notes, with the harder frets giving a bit more brightness.
One final benefit is durability - a bone nut will eventually wear out as strings move back and forth during tuning, effectively filling the slots lower. It’ll need to be replaced at some stage. But fret-wire, being a harder material, will wear much slower. But here’s where the strange, negative opinions come in.
By some people’s thinking, a zero fret will wear out much quicker than the rest of the frets, and is more difficult to replace than a bone nut. The reasoning is that a string is always in contact with the zero fret, whereas the other frets might not be played as often. In theory this seems true, but I disagree that this has any meaningful impact on fret wear significant enough to cause frustration for the owner.
While a string may always be resting on the zero fret, it’s not alway vibrating - that only happens when you play an open string, which is not all the time. So I don’t think the zero fret is subject to more wear than the other frets, or at least not enough to worry about, unless you play lots of open strings. As I mentioned at the start, I’ve worked on a number of vintage guitars that had zero frets, some 60+ years old. They all had the original frets, and while the zero fret was well worn so were all the other frets, requiring a full re-fret. The nut was still perfectly usable though…
That brings me to the other point - if you’re getting your guitar worked on, it should be by someone who is experienced in fret work AND nut work. The difference in the amount of work replacing one fret vs making a new nut is negligible. Both require experience and a detail-driven mindset to get a good result.
All up, I think the benefits outweigh the cons, both from a builders and a players perspective. The use of the much more durable Jescar Evo Gold fret-wire in my instruments should relieve any concern about the need for fretwork in the foreseeable future - it lasts for ages.
That’s enough geekery for now. Let me know what your thoughts on zero frets is in the comments below!
I like your old stuff better than your new stuff.
I recently revisited an old friend - French Polishing. I’ve never been able to master it to the level I’d polish a whole body, I’ve done the occasional neck. This is one of them, and it’s my best work yet. It absolutely glows.
There’s something about French Polished Shellac that stands out above all the other finishes I’ve tried or encountered - I hate to sound cliché, but there’s a three dimensional depth that makes timber look incredible. And it feels smooth as silk.
It might just be the perfect companion to Roasted Maple.
Being mindful.
With minimalism comes mindfulness. There’s an approach to things that I’m slowly learning that is shaping where I’m headed with my guitar building.
I wrote in my last post about tuning up my tool collection and making my processes the same across all my builds. It’s not just about doing more with less - I’ve got a goal in mind, and this is how I’m going to get there.
You see, I have a love/hate relationship with Tasmanian Blackwood. It can be a real bitch to work with, and it makes heavy instruments. My new processes reduce the risk of grain blowout (little or big chunks of grain torn out, which seems to be a regular occurrence with Blackwood and routers) and will help me build lighter frames.
I’m working on a Gideon right now using this new method, and it’s looking like it’ll be about 25-30% lighter than normal. That’s a huge win for me, and means I’ll get close to the 7lb goal. I’m expecting this one will be pretty resonant too, something that I want in all my instruments.
What does this have to do with mindfulness? Not sure. It sounded like a good title.
For now, I’ll keep tweaking the process, weighing and taking notes.
Minimalism in guitar building.
As a family we’ve been on a journey toward minimalism. Our house is small and cosy, so we make sure everything serves a purpose and brings us joy. I’ve been learning about digital minimalism too, making sure that the time spent online (social media, web browsing) brings value instead of just sucking away my time.
During the last year or so of my guitar building I’ve been looking at how to approach guitar making from a minimalist viewpoint. In some ways I started there by necessity, only having the bare essential tools. I’ve added more and more tools to the arsenal in an effort to streamline the building process, but I can’t say I’m finding any more enjoyment in it all. Some parts of the process are just downright unpleasant or dangerous. When I make the effort to slow down and do things “the hard way”, I find the enjoyment factor goes back up.
I’ve come to realise that minimalism isn’t about the amount of things you own - or don’t own.
It’s about intentionality. It’s about looking at each part of the process and making choices about the best tool for the job. That doesn’t even mean the quickest tool for the job. It can sometimes mean changing the way you do things, or even what you do, to fit within a more narrow scope and set of tools.
Case in point: I’ve trimmed back the models I offer, and also the options I offer to customise each one. This does one thing - it allows me to trim back a lot of the tools I own “just in case”. There are things I found myself constantly ordering a slight variation on something I already owned in order to do a job.
But I’ve also made changes to the way I build all these models. It’s the same across guitars and basses - very hollow. I’m adding tools to my kit to do this a particular way, but it will allow me to do the work in a cleaner, safer way that will give me consistency better results. It’ll probably be slower in some ways, but quicker in the end.
All of this to say that I dislike routers (and yet I own three) and want to reduce my reliance on them, and I really dislike having tools and jigs hanging around that I might use once in a blue moon. Watch out for the big tool sale ;)
Vintage, or modern?
I think for a while I’ve tried to find a balance between the two, as from a glance my instruments have a modern appeal. But the more I progress, unearthing what it is I’m trying to achieve, the term “Modernist” seems fitting.
You only have to look at my house and it’s furnishings to see the style I gravitate towards - mid century, or what they call Modernist. There’s a timeless simplicity to it, striking a balance between the crisp lines of modernity, and the warmth of natural materials.
So where does this fit into my instruments? My designs share these ideals - they’re late 50’s modern. They’re seeking to bring a sense of humanness back into 21st century guitar craft. You’ll see it in my pickup choices, in my less-than-perfect finishes. I’m not trying to build purebred, modern shred machines, I’m seeking to build reliable, playable, classic sounding guitars that look like they might’ve been built in another time.
So, to answer the question: Vintage Modernist.
In pursuit of imperfection.
There’s this weird tension that I find myself living in as a guitar maker, and I’ve known about it for some time. I’ve wrestled with it and conceded defeat several times, but I’m certain I can live in harmony with the tension.
I see beauty in the imperfections of the timber I work, and the work of my hands. Part of me wants to highlight it, celebrate it, enjoy it for what it is. But another part wants to cover it over and hide it behind a glossy finish.
I’m sure this is just conditioning from seeing multitudes of shiny, mass produced guitars, but also a fear that people won’t see the same beauty that I do in knots and swirls, and the micro texture of a hand applied finish.
I do want to be clear about one thing, though; I’m not talking about sloppy workmanship. I take pride in always doing my best possible work. I strive to make instruments that are a joy to play, and will last for generations. None of the imperfections I like to celebrate affect those things.
I’m more interested in throwing off my own pre-conceived ideas that wood has to be perfectly flat and smooth and free from small knots or discolouration. That finishes need to be glass like and blemish free.
I’ve begun challenging myself to intentionally be aware of these things, and build with them, not against them. Most recently I built a guitar that highlights the texture of the burnished Douglas Fir top. It looks stunning, and the feel is organic.
I plan to continue building this way for non-commissioned work, and hopefully one day people will start requesting this sort of work.
Something different
Every now and then I challenge myself to designing a guitar that doesn’t quite fit within the box - or at least within my own design guides. That’s not what happened here.
A customer actually asked what a symmetrical, no cutaway Areli would look like, but my brain read it as A-symmetrical, and I went ahead designing with that in mind.
I picked up on my error before I made a fool of myself with the customer, but the design stuck with me.
The lines started with the Gideon, which you can see in the lower bout, but of course the upper bout is completely re-shaped. The twin swoop is something I’ve played with before, but this is the first time I’ve felt that it works well. There’s still a bit to figure out construction wise, like whether it’ll need to have an extended neck tenon, and it’s the perfect candidate for attempting bent sides. There’s a lot of potential.
I haven’t decided on a name yet, or if will even become part of the regular line up. I have trimmed down my selection in an effort to simplify my process, so adding another shape is probably not the best idea at the moment…
Take care, and I’ll see you in the next post!