Some time back, I received a phone call asking me if I could work on a Martin. In mood for a little fun, I said that if it was an Aston Martin (the car that James Bond drives), I wouldn’t be able to do much!
The caller latched on, laughed and conceded that it was a Martin acoustic guitar with action issues, and strangely, only a couple or so years old. I called it in, and indeed, the action was high.
The young man had just finished his medicine studies and was into his internship. Medicine studies, as you might know, leave little time to eat and sleep, leave alone clean and maintain your acoustic guitar – even if it is a Martin! And it showed!
The young man was very apprehensive. It was a Martin, after all. However, I allayed his fears and assured him that the guitar was not beyond help, and that hopefully, he’d be able to play it soon (He had told me that the last time he had played it was in February 2019).
Anyway, I had taken the action measurements before I took the strings off. Dialing in the new measurements didn’t take long but the new saddle height left very little break angle (the angle at which the strings reach the saddle from their respective holes). The break angle becomes important for adequate downward pressure on the saddle, which in turn, accentuates volume and sustain.
The problem was how to increase the break angle. The only way was to cut string slots of each string, leading from its hole to the saddle. However, we did not want too big a cut. So, I marked the path as well as the length and depth of the cut.
Some eight or nine months ago, I had acquired this set of unique bridge slotting saws from the US. I didn’t have need for them then, but I knew that I would require them one day.
That day had arrived!
With the path marked, I went to work with the saws, slowly and carefully (I had never used them before…ever!). The results were indeed heartening: clean pathways paved for the strings to ride in.
The fretboard was cleaned and oiled (here I might add that the fretboard didn’t need oiling for it was a HPL). But still I put on a light coat of oil, just to make the fretboard look pretty. The hardware on the headstock was looked at, the body of the guitar cleaned, fresh strings, and did this baby sing??!
Want it or not, here’s one more helping of a guitar belly! This came in at a time when there were five other guitars waiting for their turn to be loved.
This one was an Epiphone, some five or six years old (just a guess) but it had managed to develop quite a belly. What’s more the bridge was lifting too.
And if you didn’t see it in that photograph, see if you can spot a problem in this one.
Yup! Even without any string tension, the saddle is leaning forward. And again, it must have been because of an oversized saddle slot or a malnourished saddle, which of the two, I didn’t bother to find out.
What I did know was that the saddle would need to be replaced. And while you’re at it, might as well put in something good rather than that crappy piece of plastic. Right! Bone it is!
And while you’re replacing the saddle and putting in bone, why not replace the nut too? Make sense? Right!
But those were minutae for later. Just now the big problem at hand was the belly and then getting the bridge off the top and putting it back on such that it would never come loose again.
And so began work. And this happened!
I had a bad feeling about this instrument right then and there. I talked to the owner and told him how a bridgepin had broken off while I was trying to take it out. Naturally, he was very surprised.
I told him the cost of a new set and when he balked hearing the price, I told him that I had a spare white one and if the difference in colour did not offend him, I’ll put that in. He agreed.
But the order of operations was tackle the belly, then the bridge (no point trying to stick a flat piece of wood to a convex surface!) and then set it up.
But to properly work on the belly, I needed access to the area where the bridge was sitting right now. So…
out came the tools and off came the bridge!
Immediately, I went about cleaning both surfaces so that time would not be wasted when I was ready to glue on the bridge.
And as you can see, the ‘operation’ was performed under magnification and proper focused lighting.
Once everything was clean and dry, on went the light clamp, with some heat and some moisture for good measure.
The initial 24 hours
After that time period, the heavier clamp was called in.
Barely 12 hours into clamping, I could see the belly had all but disappeared. However, I wasn’t exactly whooping in joy because I knew that some of that belly was bound to return once new strings were put on the instrument.
While I waited for the clamping time to pass, I decided to work on the headstock and the fretboard.
Dunno if you can make out, but there’s a healthy deposit there, though the owner won’t be getting any returns, that’s for sure! And the cleaning took a good 55 minutes.
The headstock was more forgiving, just some loose bushings that needed snugging up (and, of course, some cleaning).
After 48 hours, when the clamps came off, it was time to get the bridge glued to the top.
And it was here that trouble began! All photographs that I took of my work after this point came either blurred or over-exposed. Now, know this…whenever I am clicking a photograph, it is never just one shot of one frame but at least 3 or 4 of each. God must have been in a bad mood that day, but not one photograph is worth putting here!
Anyway, the bridge was reglued, the saddle measured for the new bone saddle to replace it. The new saddle was painstakingly cut to the right dimensions, as was the nut.
photo taken earlier
I had suggested to the owner that he use .011 gauge strings on it and he brought me a set of Black Smith strings. I was very pleased with their quality. I set up the guitar to a nice low action and when I was replacing the bridgepins, I just couldn’t bring myself to put in the white spare one along with the other black ones. So, I just broke a set and put in a matching black pin. I felt happy! When all was done, we shook hands and I moved on to the next repair.
A couple of days later, he called me to say that the strings were buzzing. As foxing as it was, I scratched my head and thought to myself that maybe, I tightened the truss rod a wee bit too much.
I called it in and loosened the truss rod, and then some more, and then some more…Naturally, the buzz had gone but the action had increased appreciably.
As I checked the higher frets (and here’s where I messed up), there was my culprit. After the 14th, 15th fret almost every fret was high at one spot or another. Had I checked it earlier, I could have told the owner and we could have remidied it then and there.
At that juncture, when I had worked on the guitar and returned it, and the owner came back with a complaint, my showing the high frets only sounded as if I was looking for excuses! I tapped down the frets and while some did get seated, others refused to.
Strangely, even the first fret action seemed a bit high. Through furrowed brow I reworked the nut and finally it seemed the owner was satisfied. He left me still scratching my head about how what had happened.
A few days later, he called me again. Again the strings were buzzing. I tried explaining to him again about the high frets but he told me that he had tried swapping the old saddle in and there was no buzz anywhere!
Again I called the guitar in, as embarassing and upsetting as it was. I pulled out my callipers and tried to show to the owner that that the new saddle matched the dimensions of the old one exactly. And right there, I saw, they didn’t! I pulled out the job sheet, and indeed I had noted the right dimensions. However, those were not the ones transferred onto the new saddle and nut!
And even as I scratched my head, I told the owner that I would replace the saddle for him. After he left the instrument, I tried thinking some more how I had managed to commit such a blunder. The probable answer seemed that working on four or five guitars simultaneously is never a good idea!
Anyway, the saddle was replaced but I don’t think the owner was too happy when he left. After as many runs to the Garage, I would have also checked and re-checked my instrument.
Here, some advice to all you who wish to have your acoustic guitar repaired. When you get back your instrument, of course, check it but use only as much force as you do when you actually play. Extra force on any one string or a couple of stings is bound to make that string buzz – especially if it is the big ‘E’ string.
My learning from the experience: CHECK EVERYTHING FIRST, and, one guitar at a time!
The last few posts of this blog – quite by chance – have had one common problem: a belly. This post too, is about a belly. I realised that I hadn’t quite explained what it was and why it happens. If I have, here it is one more time.
Over the years, string tension keeps trying to pull the bridge off the top of the guitar. Sometimes it succeeds, and most other times, when the bridge is glued well to the top, string tension manages to pull a belly into the top itself. This usually happens in the area behind the bridge.
You might recognise this from the last blog post.
To compensate for that rising, the area along the fretboard extension – the one surrounding the soundhole – sinks in.
So, that is why and how a guitar gets a belly. But how long does it take for a belly to appear in an instrument?
Like the fact that all living things have to die, all acoustic guitars WILL develop a belly. The time and size of the belly may vary from instrument to instrument. In a well-constructed guitar (where all the wood – bridge, bridgeplate, brace wood – has been used in the right quantity – thickness, height, etc) you may begin to notice a belly after 7 – 8 years. Toys that cost Rs 3.5K – which people insist on referring to as ‘guitars’ – may start sporting a belly after 6 months!
And now, for today’s repair job. This came to me sometime back with the complaint of raised action.
As you can probably see, it was an electro-acoustic instrument, making the job extra taxing (pulling out the piezo pick-up, threading it again after the job).
I checked to see if the bridge was rising under string tension but it was stuck solidly to the top. And it did have a large belly. I forgot to ask the owner how old this instrument was but my guess is that it wouldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 years old.
Once the belly was confirmed, I checked the bridgeplate. If the bridgeplate is of suspect material, it will never be able to take the string tension, and, in fact, transfer it on to the top. But surprisingly, the bridgeplate seemed to be made of rosewood, or a similar kind of wood. I checked under the top but all braces were glued properly.
But now that it was there, the belly had to be removed. So began the split 48-hour process – 24 hrs under a lighter block of wood clamped to the affected area, and another 24 hrs with a heavier, larger piece of wood replacing it.
While it was under clamps, I had the time to study the instrument. It was not a solid wood instrument and the sticker thick (thin?) veneer was already peeling and buckling.
And, oooh, was it grimy?!
I cleaned up the guitar to the best of my ability and when the clamps did come off, the belly had been reduced tremendously. Some of it may return, but certainly not all of it.
But tell me this: what do you think these screws are for? What were they holding?
I removed those too and filled up the holes they left behind.
Here’s wishing a very warm, happy and prosperous 2022 to all the readers of this blog!
As promised, the workshop, blog and I are back at it after a break.
Starting off proceedings in the new year is this Squier
Did I hear someone say, ‘Ouch’?
Yeah!
Do pause a while and concentrate on the last two photographs. The bridge-split is bad but worse, it is some cheap, light-coloured wood, painted a dark colour. Can bridge wood quality be a contributing factor in causing a bridge split? Undeniably!
And this is a Fender! Shame!
But we, the customers, must shoulder part of the blame. We demand from manufacturers ‘musical instruments’ that are inexpensive – the lesser, the better. What else do you expect with this penny-wise and pound-foolish approach?
And then there’s the saddle. Never mind the material, but so broad is the saddle slot cut in the bridge (or, so thin a saddle was used) that even without string tension, the saddle is falling forward. Another recipe for a bridge-split.
The same crappy wood used for the bridge was used on the fretboard
making the paint disappear through wear.
If that wasn’t enough, the guitar had a massive belly
removing which would be a painstaking task.
But those were all secondary issues. The condition that I found the bridge in, troubled me a lot. I have seen split bridges before but none worse. I gave it a lot of thought and then decided that the bridge needed to be replaced. My reasoning was two-fold. Just going by how deeply the bridge was split, I was not confident, filling it would not crack it again later, and two, the quality of wood used didn’t merit any time and energy be spent on it.
Taking the bridge off the top, I was happy that I decided to replace it.
The crack between the ‘D’ and ‘G’ string holes was so deep that it almost broke through on the other side.
Funnily enough, there was another issue with the bridge, one that I have not seen. The bridge slot seemed to be cut in a curve. In the photograph below, I am holding a fresh bone saddle trying to insert it in the slot. While the treble end of the saddle went in conveniently, the bass end refused to go in. I tried a couple of other saddles to see if the one I had tried was not warped, but the fault lay in the slot itself.
And now that it was off, I had to find a replacement for the bridge.
It’s replacement was much the same bridge, only this one was solid rosewood. With a little bit of oil, it’s colour would darken appreciably. The more important fact was that this bridge would provide much greater stability to the instrument – much more than what the original bridge had ever provided.
But to glue it on to the guitar top, the belly would have to be removed, the top flattened as much as was possible and then the bridge would have to be stuck.
24 hours with a small block of felt-backed piece of wood and then another 24 hours with a larger piece of cork-backed piece of wood, seemed to have removed the belly from the instrument but I knew some of it was bound to return once string tension played its part.
For now, things looked very optimistic, or should I say flat.
While the instrument was under the rack, I turned my attention to the bridge. This was actually a bridge blank with just the saddle slot fully done while the bridgepin holes went only 3/4th of the way through the bridge.
I would have to drill through them completely to make it functional.
When I placed it on the guitar top, my worst fears came true. The holes on the bridge did not quite line up with the holes on the guitar top!
So, I had to fill up the holes with properly sized dowels of spruce, which were then planed level with the top. I also had to work on the area of the footprint of the old bridge. Thin slivers of wood were glued down, while others were sliced off.
It was now time to glue the bridge to the top.
My understanding of a good bridge-glue-up job is that there should be enough pressure for ample time for the perfect bond, and, of course, there should be glue.
I left the bridge clamped exactly like this for a good 48 hours, while I tried to clean up the rest of the instrument, particularly the fretboard and headstock area. While I would have liked to have been more thorough on the fretboard, the suspect quality of wood forbade me, and I just cleaned it lightly and oiled it.
When the clamps came off, the job had been done, and done well. A little bit of oil nourished and darkened the bridge enough.
Unrelatedly, a friend had sent me a few sets of coloured strings asking me to try them on. Inexpensive, I had earlier used them on two student guitars and had got good reports about them. I decided to throw on a set on this Squier too.
And yes, after all that trauma that this Squier went through, it got a swanky new bone saddle and nut.
Here’s one last look at this baby
I am still waiting for the owner to get back to me about how the instrument is doing and his report on the coloured strings.
