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wALLACE MARX JR.
Making It Work
I’ve recently been inspired by two very
disparate sources: punk rock and Project
Runway. This, I know, puts me in clear and
present danger of being flamed by the gear
bloggeratti but it makes sense, I swear. Allow
me to explain. First, I recently did a bunch of
work on an article about the gear of the punk
rockers. Second, my wife is a seamstress and
she watches the TV show Project Runway
incessantly. Aside from sharing the same
initials, these two cultural phenomenons
would seem to have nothing in common—
runty rock revolution from snot-nosed kids
versus leggy runway models wearing the
latest creations from aspiring designers?
What could possibly tie these two together?
the world is looking for is something new,
something fresh, something that touches on
the past but brings it squarely into the future.
That’s called innovation. One definition of
innovation is taking something that already
exists and making it better. Sound like
anyone we know? I would put forward Leo
Fender as one of the best innovators of the
20th century. Fender never really purely
invented anything. He wasn’t the first at
solidbody guitars or guitar amps or multi-
necked steels. But he was the guy who
perfected it all, made it eminently popular
and saleable—which is another definition of
innovation. That is, to take an idea and find
opportunity to share his or her unique
vision: “This is who I am, this is how I play,
and this is what I sound like.” The key is
that, whatever gear you have, whatever
level you’re at, whatever kind of doubts
you have in your mind, just make it work.
Believe it or not, you can communicate your
vision with sound. Mick Jones of The Clash
has always said that he believes that the
sound of someone’s guitar, the way they
play, is a direct reflection of who they are
inside. (It’s kind of scary when you think
about it. I mean, there have been some
nasty tones in guitar history, both nasty
good and nasty bad... makes you wonder
Make It Work
“Make it work” is the signature line of the
host of Project Runway, a guy named Tim
Gunn. Whatever the situation, this is what
Gunn says. You hear it so much, you begin
to believe it—at least I have. It’s given me a
whole new attitude toward the gear I have
and what I want to do with it.
Every guitar player has the opportunity
to share his or her unique vision: “This
is who I am, this is how I play, and this is
what I sound like.”
For those of you who haven’t thought
about punk rock for a while, or ever, one
takeaway on the movement was that it
was driven largely by kids with no money
but a desperate will to have their voices
heard. That means very few custom shop or
boutique axes. Any vintage guitar involved
was purely there by mistake. Gear shortage
was the norm. There’s a great line in the
Clash song “Garageland” that goes: “
Twenty-two singers, one microphone / five guitar
players, one guitar.” It’s illustrative of the
scene. Nobody had much, but they wanted
to do something. They had to take what they
had and make it work.
The inspiration I got from both sources was
similar. In the case of the punks, making it
work meant making their axes sound suitably
unique. Not just loud or raw or whatever
other tonal quality pros conjure, but unique.
Punk was about being different, showing a
point of view, making a statement, having
vision. For designers, unique vision is
everything. Who needs a designer who can
design a pair of Levi’s? It’s been done! What
a practical application for it. Fender did this
in spades (and tweed and tolex). He knew
that there was a right combination of design,
sound, and materials that would allow his
products to stand ahead of the others. Leo
Fender didn’t invent the stuff, but he took
what he had and he made it work.
Both musicians and designers have a unique
judgment arena. The musician is judged live,
onstage. People either dig or they don’t;
they vote with their feet. Plenty of us know
the sinking feeling of watching a good crowd
dwindle as we get further into our set. The
designer has a somewhat different baptism
by fire. They get one gig to strut their stuff—
literally—as their designs are walked down
the runway in front of a thousand cheering (if
they’re lucky) people. At the highest levels,
both guitarists and designers are reviewed
in the newspapers and online and stand the
chance to make a decent living.
What’s the point, Wallace? The point
here is that every guitar player has the
what some people have going on inside.)
Jones himself played a Les Paul through
a Roland Space echo into a Boogie MK II
driving a 4x12 Marshall cab. The sound was
huge, swirling, powerful, sometimes muddy.
Not your ordinary rig, but it was distinctly
Mick Jones. He made it work.
Wallace Marx Jr.
Wallace Marx Jr. is the author of Gibson Amplifiers, 1933–
2008: 75 Years of the Gold Tone. He is a lifelong musician
and has worked in all corners of the music industry. He is
currently working on a history of the Valco Company. He is
a children’s tour guide at the Museum of Making Music, a
struggling surfer, and he once hung out with Joe Strummer.
