The ugliest tool in the shop

The tops (and sometimes backs) of my archtop guitars are carved by hand out of thick slabs of solid wood. While the shape on the ouside is important, what about the inside? It has to be smooth like the outside, but has to be precisely the right thickness, tapering thinner towards the edges.

How do I get them so thin without carving away too much? I know many luthiers use precision-machined deep-throated calipers, perhaps even with a digital readout. There exist also sets of carefully calibrated magnets that measure using their attractive force. But I use this, probably the ugliest tool in the shop:

It's a piece of scrap wood (from a trashed ikea chair, no less), with a knob of wood glued to one arm and a pencil jammed in the other. It's a very simpe machine. And yet, it has proven to be perfect for the job at hand; simply set the pencil (white in this case for drawing on walnut; a soft artist's pencil for light woods) the desired distance from the knob and draw it across the plate like this:

Wherever the wood is thicker than the gap, the pencil leaves a mark. The arms have a bit of spring to them, so I can tell how much thicker by observing how faint or dark the pencil marks are. Then I simply plane away a few shavings and test again. By adusting the gap and looking at the pencil marks, I can also carve the plate thinner toward the edges.

It's extremely precise, it marks and measures at the same time, and it's basically free. I've been using it for sixteen years and ten archtop guitars- and only replaced the pencil once. Ugly or not, it's one of my favourite tools.

New Gallery: Tube Amplifiers!

As promised, I'm going to start showing you some of the guitar amplifiers I've built. I've actually been tinkering with amps for as long as I have with guitars. My first attempt as an over-ambitious and under-informed teenager involved a cheap stereo console rescued from the neighbours' trash. It was a cheap power-transformerless design, and the experience of turning it into a guitar amp was so shocking (fortunately, only 120 volts... over and over and over) that I didn't dare touch one again for nearly 12 years.

But then, if you build guitars for a living, what are you going to do for a hobby?

Building amps is completely different from building guitars: hardly any woodwork, no room for improvisation, and an awful lot of math. It's more like learning a new language than honing a new skill. But the goal is ultimately the same: to create sound, nay TONE. Tone you've never heard, or heard only in your head and need to bring to life, or even tones vagely remembered and in need of resuscitation. And let me tell you a secret that most luthiers won't share: most of the tone is coming from the amp, not the guitar. Just between you and me...

Clic on the pic to go to my tube amplifier gallery. Just one amp there so far, more coming soon!

The Kanata Guitar Show

Kanata is the Ottawa suburb where I spent my teenage years. It's where I learned to play (and tinker with, and then repair) guitar, joined my first band, and started out on this crazy career path. So it makes sense to go back to my roots for this show.

I'll be there with a handful of guitars, and some unique handmade tube amps too. Did I ever mention that I also make tube amps? I'll tell you all about them on these pages soon; if you want a sneak peak, come on out to the show and try them out!

New Guitar: "Ulma"

If form follows function, then if the function is to create beauty the form shall be beautiful as well. Or somthing like that.

This guitar was a great collaboration between myself and an engaged and exacting client. Although it seems like a simple neck-through guitar, the design revolves around a precise relationship beween two angles and the associated planes. The result is a guitar that fits the body like a well-tailored suit.

(click on the pic for a detailed description)

Tool Review: Craftex CX100 Bandsaw

One of the conditions I set when I moved to the new shop was that I needed a better bandsaw. That was two years ago; I think I can now give a fully-formed opinion on the saw I purchased back then.

A good bandsaw is one of the few tools I really think I couldn't live without. As a luthier, I hoped to find one that would have the capacity to resaw wood for guitar tops and backs up to 9" thick. That way I can use any lumber (including my black walnut log), not just precut stuff from luthier supply companies.

I decided on the Craftex CX100, which was brand new at the time. It's sold through Busy Bee Tools, which has a location in Ottawa so I was able to see it before buying it. On paper it seems perfect: the small footprint and modest (relatively speaking) weight of a 14" bandsaw, with 13" resaw capacity, 2hp 220v motor, ball-bearing rollers guides, good-quality fence, one-piece steel construction, and by far the lowest price in its class at around $1000. Could it be too good to be true?

Two years later, I'm come to grips with all of its idiosyncracies. First, the good: It really is a terrific, well-made saw. The fundamentals are what matter most- the frame is very stiff, the wheels are well-balanced and true, and the motor has more power than I could ever need. Dust collection is quite good if you have a powerful collector unit, and the extruded aluminum guides are adequate and easy to use.

The other essential is the ability to adjust the saw for best performance. A bandsaw is only as good as it's operator: if the blade is not tracking straight and true, if the guides cannot be set correctly, if the table and fences aren't square, then even the best saw will not give good results. A top-quality north american or european saw will make it easy to dial in the perfect set-up; cheaper taiwanese machinery like the CX100 requires a little more effort and saavy, but the adjustability is there.

A lot of it is done using eccentric circles with locking set screws. For example, to bring in the blade guides you'd loosen the set screw, rotate the guide to the desired position, and tighten the screw. Almost every aspect of the bade guides can be adjusted linearly and rotationally. This is pretty great, but in practice it's rather finicky. It takes some force to lock the parts so they don't slip, and with that comes the risk of scarring the surfaces, which can throw off the registration of components. Some parts are rough cast iron where it would have been nice to find a machined surface. The upper wheel tracking adjustment mechanism is simply two bolts with knob heads, through holes drilled and tapped directly in the sheet metal of the frame. It really would have been a good idea for them to weld on a couple of nuts there.

In other words, when you unpack the machine, you can't assume that anything will be adjusted correctly. You will have to have a good mechanical mind to get everything dialled in perfectly without stripping any threads or screw heads, and it'll take a few hours, a few scrap pieces of wood, and perhaps a spare blade too. But at least it can be done.

Speaking of blades, the one that is shipped with the saw is junk, plain and simple. Use it to get the guides and table lined up, and then put on a proper blade. I like to use Timberwolf blades from Suffolk Machinery, though I've heard good things about Highland Hardware's "Woodslicer" blades, and any silicon-steel blades will do in a pinch. Here's the kind of surface I can get, on walnut:

It hasn't all been smooth sailing. I've burned out two thrust bearings, and when one of those seized up in the middle of resawing a big chunk of ebony, it got so hot that it warped a nice new resaw blade (and wasted a small but resonably valuable slice of wood). I've had blade guides wiggle loose, resulting in excess blade wander in the middle of a cut. Still, now that I've experienced those issues I know how to avoid them, namely by getting higher-quality ball-bearing rollers and appling the right amount of torque to the set screws. So in the end, with a little elbow grease and trial and error, I've got a workhorse that can do job of a saw three times the price. It has paid for itself already in allowing me to use lower-priced raw lumber to make my own tonewoods, along with doing everyday cutting work. There's no denying the incredibly good value of this saw; it's just not a plug-and play proposition.