By T. Perry Bowers
I’m not a great guitar player. Honestly, I only started getting serious about my playing when I turned forty. Before that, I was just a tinkerer—and not a very good one at that. I wrote another blog about why I decided to focus on guitar, but here’s the short version: over the years, I’d been gifted three truly amazing guitars. With the first two, I practiced for a couple of months then gave up. But when I got the third one—the nicest by far—I took it as a sign that I was meant to play. So I committed to practicing at least fifteen minutes a day, no matter what.
That fifteen minutes turned into thirty, then into an hour, and soon I was playing a whole lot. I still consider myself a beginner, but I’ve learned some interesting chords, and my picking has improved enough that I don’t get laughed out of the room when I play with decent musicians. Over the past fifteen years, I’ve played full sets with my band on rhythm guitar while singing lead vocals, and I’ve come up with some cool ideas along the way. I use a lot of effects—delay, tremolo, and distortion top my list—but the real signature of my sound is the tremolo bar.
Discovering the Tremolo Bar
One of my defining music moments was hearing Loveless by My Bloody Valentine. The way they bent chords and layered guitars was exactly what my ears had been craving. Sure, other bands have done it, but not quite like MBV. There’s something cosmic and ethereal about that record that takes me to another place.
When I started learning guitar, I stuck to simple covers from singer-songwriters—Neil Young, Richard Ashcroft, David Gray, Death Cab for Cutie—mostly because I wanted to sing and play at the same time. As the frontman, I had to handle vocals and rhythm guitar, so I needed coordination between my hands and my voice. That small batch of covers helped me build a solid foundation.
Eventually, when my ear-hand coordination improved, I ventured into the world of guitar pedals. Then I got a guitar with a tremolo bar. As soon as I paired distortion and delay with the tremolo, I discovered the secret to that MBV-esque sound—and I fell in love.
Yes, I basically ripped it off, but Jimmy Page ripped off every blues player who ever lived. That’s how this works. I’m not saying my sound is equal to MBV’s; I’m just saying I figured out what they were doing. I don’t use the bar all the time, but whenever there’s space to bend those chords, I do it. Sometimes it sounds weird or out of tune—and I like that.
Why I Modify My Guitars
Because I rely so heavily on my tremolo bar, I need one on all my guitars. Some came with them installed, but I’ve had to add tremolo systems to most. That means I pay a pro to do the work—trust me, you don’t want me cutting into a guitar. It would end up in splinters.
I had a ’78 Les Paul that didn’t come with a Bigsby (the usual tremolo for a Les Paul). I loved the sound—it was the first Les Paul I’d played that made me realize I wanted to be a “Les Paul guy” for a while. But I couldn’t get my signature sound without a tremolo bar. Luckily, I had a guitar repair shop in my building. The tech told me about Kahler tremolos, which he’d heard were easier to install, stayed in tune, and preserved tone. He put one in, and it worked wonderfully.
I’m a bit of a purist at heart, so it does bother me to modify a guitar from its original condition. If I had unlimited funds, I’d hunt down Les Pauls with original Bigsbys or buy guitars that already have tremolos. But for now, I’m happy modifying my guitars to get the sound I want.
Venturing into Pickups
When I started adding tremolos, I also got interested in pickups. I didn’t realize how much they could change and improve your tone. My first pickup swap was on my Fernandes Native, which had a sustainer system that could hold a note basically forever, but a mediocre humbucker. My guitar tech friend installed a Steve Stevens pickup, and it completely transformed the guitar’s tone.
Now all my guitars have modified pickup systems. I’ve used a bunch of custom pickups—Lust for Tone, Bare Knuckle, and Fralin are my favorites.
The Downsides of Modding
- It’s Expensive: Tremolo systems can cost $200–$350, and installing them can easily cost as much again. Plus, mods don’t add resale value; they can even reduce it, especially on vintage instruments. Ideally, I’d buy guitars with factory tremolos, but those can run into the tens of thousands for certain models.
- You May Lose Sustain: Occasionally, I’ve noticed a drop in sustain after installing a tremolo system. It doesn’t make total sense to me, but it happens.
- Pickups Are a Gamble: You can watch a million pickup demos on YouTube, but every guitar is unique. Still, if you go with a quality manufacturer, you’ll probably get a great result.
Tuners
I used to assume tuning issues were caused by my tuning pegs, but it’s almost never the tuners. A tech once showed me that lubricating the nut (a.k.a. “nut sauce”) usually solves tuning problems by letting the strings move smoothly. Tuners are simple mechanisms and rarely the real culprit, so upgrading them may be a waste of money.
Bridges, Nuts, Frets, and Necks
My bridges often get replaced as part of a tremolo system, but I haven’t swapped one for reasons of tone or tuning. Some say a new bridge helps, and if you have a corroded old Strat bridge, maybe you need a replacement. Otherwise, keep it original if you can.
Changing the nut can improve tone, tuning, and playability. A high-quality nut can reveal hidden qualities in a guitar you already love, but it’s not a cure-all for deeper issues.
Re-fretting is a big deal—I spent over $500 to re-fret my ’78 Les Paul, and Johnny Brown did a brilliant job. It was worth it because that guitar is a tone monster, and now it plays like a dream. If you play a lot, expect to refret about once every ten years, especially if you have a high-end guitar. Don’t skimp on luthiers; it’s easy to mess up a refret.
If your neck is warped, you’ll probably need a new one. There’s no real fix for a severely warped neck. When deciding whether to do that, consider the guitar’s value, how much you love it, and how long you plan to play it.
Final Thoughts
We can all be precious about our guitars, but nobody else really cares about the modifications. What people do care about is the sound you make and the feeling you bring to the music. If you can sit down alone and enjoy playing that piece of wood, you’re doing something beautiful. Make it your own, but also accept it for what it is. Sometimes that little bit of resistance—the fight you have with your instrument—can push you to become a better player.
