Is it just because they’re old? I mean we all know that old stuff is worth more, right? Well, that might be one superficial reason, but it’s not just the fact that they are old and worth a lot of money that makes them highly sought after. When you start to become familiar with vintage guitars you develop an respect for the craftsmanship that went into building them, then you gain an appreciation for their beauty and character. Then you start to think a little less about just how much a vintage guitar is worth.

There’s just something about holding a vintage guitar in your hands. To a person that doesn’t play guitar, it just feels like a guitar. But to a guitar player it’s something different. Have you ever held a vintage Fender Stratocaster, Fender Telecaster or a vintage Gibson Les Paul or a Gibson SG? It’s like holding a work of art. The craftsmanship is so superb that it almost feels as if the guitar could play itself. It has a resonance to it. And I’m not talking about the sound. I’m talking about it’s life, it’s history, it’s story. All of these things make up a vintage guitar’s “character”.

I’ll give you a small example of what I’m talking about. Every scratch happened somehow. Did it happen onstage? Did it happen in a bar? A hotel room? A tour bus? Who did it? Someone famous? Was it stolen from someone famous, then recovered? You might think “that’s to deep, nobody thinks about that stuff!” But I assure you they do.

How did I come to think of such things? I’ll be glad to tell you. About 25 years ago I was in a pawn shop in Dallas, Texas and on the wall was a vintage Gibson Flying V.

It was a little nicked up here and there, and it had a few character scratches. But it felt sooo good in my hands. I can’t remember how much it was now, but I do remember that I couldn’t afford it at that time. So I ended up buying a pretty good copy of a Gibson Les Paul, made by Kay Guitars.

Then one day I was reading an article in Rolling Stone Magazine about the legendary blues artist Albert King, who’s main axe just happened to be the Gibson Flying V. The article had told about him showing up for gigs just in time to play his set and afterwords he would collect his cash in a paper bag and throw his guitar in the back seat of his old convertible Cadillac and head out to the next gig in some other town. I thought about that Flying V hanging on the wall of that pawn shop. The history of that guitar, who might have owned it, and how those nicks and scratches might have got there.

Albert King Playing His Gibson Flying V