through the building, beginning with finished
guitars and ending with solid blocks of wood.
“It’s the details, baby. The devil’s in the details,”
Sterling beamed at a setup bench where he had
just played a funky song that allowed him to test
every single fret on a sparkle-blue StingRay. “The
difference between a good guitar and a great gui-
tar? About 100 details—we hope we know what
they are after almost 30 years.”
Despite selling guitars in 86 countries, Ernie
Ball Music Man still operates much like a small
factory: It doesn’t create inventory at will—a cus-
tomer or a dealer has ordered every instrument
in progress at the shop. Even so, the company is
successful enough that Sterling has to spend a lot of
time with “damn accountants and attorneys” at this
stage of the game. That explains why, when he’s on
the factory floor, he races around like an inside dog
who has just been turned loose in the backyard.
He’s been tweaking his guitar-making operation for
nearly 30 years and is excited to show anyone and
everyone what makes his guitars different.
“Success is being able to identify where the
handwork and the machine work are necessary,”
he pointed out as he stood between “Ursula,” a
buffing robot, and an employee with 26 years of
experience who was handbuffing the curves and
tight spots that Ursula can’t buff as well. “That
gives you a guitar with a little bit of soul.”
One of the secrets of Ernie Ball Music Man’s
famously comfortable necks is a process that
involves warping them on purpose after the fret-
board has been glued on. They crank the truss rod
