When Alembic started back in 1969, our goal was to create the finest quality American made instruments ever known. This philosophy applies to all products that we offer.

While we are best known for our basses, we also make outstanding guitars, preamps, and accessories. Please peruse these product pages to find out more about them.

Tour one of the largest and oldest piano restoration factories in existence and watch as musical treasures are brought back to life. Patrick J. Cunningham founded Cunningham Piano Company and Factory in 1891. His leadership, commitment to quality, and a great business sense made Cunningham Piano Company one of Philadelphia's most respected piano makers.

In all walks of life you'll find people content to rest on past accomplishments, fame or glory. Two years ago or twenty, they remind you incessantly of what they did. Ask them what they've done lately, though, and you find yourself facing a blank stare.

Then there are those who are never satisfied; who are continually perfecting and innovating, experimenting with new ideas and trying to improve on the old. So it is with the folks at Deering Banjo Company in Lemon Grove, Cal.

Twenty years ago Greg and Janet Deering started out with a dream to build a quality instrument a beginner could afford. Back then, inexpensive beginners' banjos were cheaply made and sounded that way. The plastic or aluminum pots just didn't have the ring of the ones professionals played. Consequently, students quickly became discouraged and gave up shortly after trying to learn to play. (And anything that sounded good cost more than a beginner wanted to shell out.)

So, in 1978, after three years subcontracting banjo parts for a high-end brand the Deerings developed and marketed their Basic and Intermediate banjos featuring a steel pot and a mahogany neck. Their rich tone and easy action still amaze listeners and pickers alike; yet the price was affordable for someone just starting out.

The Deerings could have been satisfied there. Their place in that market was secure; why mess with success? But they weren't. Over the years, they went on to develop a whole line of professional quality instruments from the Sierra and Deluxe models that features a three-ply maple rim and mahogany neck to the Gabriella that features a Brazilian rosewood neck, a mother-of- pearl fingerboard and vine peghead inlay.

Their six- and 12-string acoustic banjos and Crossfire electric banjos have spawned a whole new interest in the banjo from previously untapped corners of the music spectrum. They have been responsible at least in part for the instrument's crossover from a purely folk and bluegrass instrument to one now heard in the country, rock, and jazz genres. Tune around the FM dial sometime. You'll hear names like Joe Satriani, Rod Stewart, John Hartford, John Sebastian, Jimmy Olandei (of Diamond Rio),Jeff Cook (of Alabama), and Bela Fleck playing Deering electric and acoustic instruments. Coming off the success of Garth Brooks' hit single and video "Callin' Baton Rouge," that features Bela Fleck on the Crossfire, Brooks recently ordered a new Crossfire for his band, Janet Deering says.

"Our goal has always been to build what banjo players want," Greg Deering says matter-of-factly. Janet adds their design was to "help expand bluegrass music as well as make banjos that can be used in other music forms. That way a broader spectrum of people can enjoy the banjo.
"That's the difference between us and other companies," Janet adds. "We're working to make the banjo market grow. The rest of them are all fighting for a piece of the same pie."

But it was neither thoughts of big names nor of owning his own business that motivated Greg to design and build his first instrument:. As with most cases of motherhood and invention, necessity spawned Greg's first creation. Greg had been playing banjo as a college student in the '60s for about six years by then; he needed a better banjo but couldn't afford to buy one. Building his own wasn't the end of Greg's banjo making, though; other pickers saw his banjo and wanted one for themselves.
Greg says he was unable to hang onto a banjo until he finally built a long-neck, folk model. Back then, the long-neck variety made popular by Pete Seeger and the folk boom was not as big as it is today. And while he still has the original long-neck he built for himself, he says orders for them have increased steadily over the years from one to quite a few each year. He explains fans of the Kingston Trio from the '50s and '60s have grown and probably have settled with families and careers now. They have enough time to learn the instruments and the old songs. Today, Deering Banjo Company sells a substantial number of long-neck folk banjos in a variety of models for those of us who never outgrew the folk era.
Not, long after that, Greg says he switched his major at San Diego State University from Biology to Industrial Arts, ultimately constructing a banjo for his final project. Greg recalls his professor gave him a B on the final, stating the instrument was too good; he couldn't have done all the work himself.

Ever thought of inviting the old man out for a tour of the shop since then, Greg? Maybe sending him a catalog? From there, Greg went to work for American Dream Music in Lemon Grove as a repairman, working there for about four years until 1974 when he and Janet were married and Taylor Guitars bought out American Dream. They opened Deering Banjo Company out of their home in 1975.

"Our living room was our shipping and receiving area," Janet grins. "Our bedroom was the office; the patio was the assembly area; the garage our wood shop. We sprayed banjos on the back porch." Times were tough then; many times Janet says she had to personally deliver a load of banjos to dealers upstate and then run to the bank afterward so the family could put food on the table.

Deering Banjos moved into more accommodating quarters in Lemon Grove about a year later when the Fire Marshal started asking questions about their operation. They finally settled into their place at 7936 Lester Avenue in 1983.

After the success of their Basic and Intermediate lines, the Deerings added the Deluxe, the Maple Blossom, and Calico banjos that featured a wood pot, a mahogany neck, an ebony fingerboard inlaid in mother-of-pearl, and a bell-bronze tone ring. The three-ply maple pot. was introduced in 1981. The GDL (Greg Deering Ltd.) followed a year later and the Ivanhoe, featuring mother-of-pearl and abalone inlay with all hardware is gold plated and engraved, a year after that.
The Deerings made a major breakthrough when they showed up at the 1985 NAMM (National Association of Music Merchants) show with their Crossfire, the first. electric banjo that worked. Until then, other instrument manufacturers had tried and failed in attempts to create an electric banjo. The instruments either were plagued with feedback problems or they sounded too much like guitars. This one sounded like a banjo. Janet recalls the new Crossfires drew quite a crowd of onlookers.

"People thought it was strange; they didn't know what to think of it," Janet recalls. "I explained it was like an electric guitar. The shape was designed so it would fit into an electric guitar case; the 'horns' housed the electronics." She adds that more than 90 percent of the Crossfires are ordered in black because many players wear a black shirt or jacket; to hide the instrument's odd shape. From a distance, the white head gives the instrument the round banjo shape.

Originally, the Crossfire could be ordered with either the banjo or six- string guitar neck. But in 1993, Deering discontinued the six-string version. As fate would have it, Jeff Cook of Alabama ordered one with the six-string neck shortly thereafter. He played it on the Grand Ole Opry this summer. Many bluegrass banjo players are also playing the Crossfire electrics in country and rock bands on the side, Janet says.
The Crossfire comes with two pick ups that can be selected for a guitar or a banjo sound, or for the two in combination. Greg and Janet have worked with Bernie Leadon (formerly of the Eagles and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band) and Bela Fleck since the first Crossfire to perfect the instrument, recently coming up with a new pickup they say works even better than the ones they initially used. Greg notes it has a "cleaner, quieter sound. And it's easier to link up with wireless and other sound systems."

(If you're one of those who own a Crossfire that still uses the old pick-up, write or call Deering about having your instrument refitted with the new style.)
Besides some 15 models in a variety of styles (five-string, bluegrass, long-neck, tenor, plectrum, left-handed, six- and 12-string, archtop, flattop), Deering does a considerable amount. of custom work. If you can draw or describe the design you want, Deering craftsmen can probably build it. Such was the case recently for George Grove of the Kingston Trio. George wanted a long-neck banjo with the fingerboard and peghead inlaid in a dinosaur scene. Not just dinosaurs at the usual fret markers, an entire prehistoric scene including landscape inlaid from peghead to pot. He got it, too; an instrument he dubbed his "Banjosauris." Greg and Chuck Neitzel, one of Deering's top craftsmen, designed and laid out the fingerboard. And Jeremiah, Greg and Janet's son, drew the peghead design.
Bela Fleck ordered a purple Crossfire inlaid in a cosmic hippo design after his "Flight Of The Cosmic Hippo" CD. And, yes, it matches a purple shirt he wears onstage.

Texas banjo player and bluegrass DJ Tony Ullrich ordered a line of 151 banjos to commemorate each year of the Texas Sesquicentennial from 1836 to 1986. The peghead and fingerboard are inlaid in spurs, a hat, a boot, crossed pistols, the Alamo, a lariat, and flags of Texas and the United States.
The Deerings also built a model for John Hartford. The Hartford can he ordered with either the bell-bronze or a wood tone ring made from Granadillo. Enthusiasts of the wood tone note the banjo still packs plenty of punch but produces a more rounded note and is lighter in weight than the bell-bronze tone ring.

Still progressing, the Deerings released their new Hartford model this year. What sets the new Hartford apart is its 24-fret fingerboard. Unlike the long-neck which positions an extra three frets at the peghead end of the fingerboard, the Hartford adds two additional frets at the bottom (pot) end. This moves the bridge more toward the middle of the head, bringing out the full tone of the instrument.
As head of marketing, Janet keeps her hand on the pulse of the market to learn how they compare in sales with other banjo makers. Much of the success goes to Janet's marketing savvy.

"It's mostly common sense," she shrugs. "That and a weekend marketing seminar I took a few years ago. Sales really took off about 1986 when we came out. with our color catalog."

The company's workforce has increased to keep pace; but, at more than a dozen employees on the payroll now, it still hasn't lost its family atmosphere. On any given day, you'll see Greg binding resonators or setting up a Crossfire, Jeremiah turning a pot or punching out a flange, and Jamie, the Deerings' daughter, and Janet filling in wherever they can to help fill an order. However, Janet says she doesn't get to put in as much time in the shop as she used to. "I miss it," she says.

Two of Deering's craftsmen, Chuck Neitzel and Wendell Weisner, have been with the company better than 25 years between them. And another employee describes banjo making as "the most fun you can have with your clothes on."

The location helps the atmosphere as well. Lemon Grove is a small community east of downtown San Diego with a small town flavor. (Greg tells visitors to look for the big mailbox in back of the Lemon Grove Post Office as you're coming down Lester Avenue. When you see it, they're right across the street - 7936 Lester Ave., Lemon Grove, CA 91945, 1-800-845-7791)

Deering has expanded its quarters as well to include new space for an additional setup bench, a new office and showroom and recently-acquired space for more room for the machine shop.

As for the future, Greg smiles and admits, "I think all of us are hoping for another Deliverance," another movie like that or Bonnie And Clyde that featured banjo music and brought the instrument more publicity and increased banjo sales. "Banjo sales really jumped after that movie came out," he says.

Beyond that, Janet doesn't say much about future plans. "We have things in the works right now, but we're keeping them quiet for marketing reasons."

Make History
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Experience more than 8,000 square feet of exhibits featuring hundreds of instruments, amps, photos, historical artifacts, interactive displays and more that give guests from all over the world a fascinating, educational and unforgettable firsthand look at the entire Fender story from 1946 to today.

Enjoy browsing and shopping for apparel, accessories, collectibles and other items in the retail shop, purchase an instrument in the Guitar Specialty Store, embark on the Fender Factory and Custom Shop tour, and enter the "Wood Vault," where you can design and purchase your very own Fender American Design instrument.

Factory Tours
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From the Fender Visitor Center you'll embark on the Fender Factory and Custom Shop tour for a fascinating up-close and start-to-finish look at the remarkable transformation of raw materials into fine Fender guitars, basses, amplifiers and other products.

Watch as Fender staff in the Wood Mill, Metal Shop, Final Assembly and other areas practice their craft, and see actual instruments and amps take shape at each stage in their production. Finally, your guide will escort you into the "Dream Factory" - the world-famous Fender Custom Shop - for an unprecedented firsthand look at the creation of the very best of Fender's best.

Take the Gibson guided tour with a knowledgeable "honest to goodness" musician. Learn how our talented craftspeople combine their skills with the latest in guitar technology to hand shape a silent block of wood, and, as if by magic, turn it into a beautiful musical instrument with a voice all its own.

See and hear how, for over 100 years, Gibson has helped make the world of music what it is today and sets the tempo for where it's going tomorrow.

Multi-String Electric Bass Pioneer Ken Smith has developed or introduced many of the innovations used on today?s basses which are now industry standards. Some of these include Printed Circuit Board Electronics, Graphite Inlaid Neck, Detented Balance and EQ controls, Low ?B? Design .128 and .130, and Taper Core Bass Strings. Ken Smith hand picks the wood for every bass from our in-house lumberyard, which features over 20 species of aged tonewoods. Visitors to the factory are awestruck by what is probably the largest collection and variety of acclimated musical-grade woods in the world. Inspired by the techniques of 16th - 19th Century European stringed instrument makers, Smith Basses are a marriage of Old World Tradition and Modern Innovation. Ken Smith supervises the production of each bass and still does the final set-up.

The C.F. Martin Company factory tour is a memorable experience for families and business travelers. We take great pride in the guitars and strings we produce. In fact, we're so proud that we open our doors every weekday for a tour at 11 am. It's the best way we know to show our deep commitment to building premium guitars and strings. From the moment you walk into our factory, you'll get a fascinating view of how our world-renowned acoustic guitars and strings are made, and see the innovation and artistry that have shaped the Martin legend throughout its rich history.

See how the Moog synthesizers and electronic instruments are handmade. Also they have all the instruments setup in a room where you can try them all out!

The Original American Kazoo Company was established in 1916 and is now the only original metal kazoo factory in the world. The museum highlights history, amusing trivia, and shows step by step the way kazoos are made.

Kazoos of all shapes and sizes are permanently displayed in the museum. Our collection chronicles the history of kazoos as well as the factory. Display cases contain several types of wooden kazoos, liquor bottle shaped kazoos that celebrated the end of prohibition, antique kazoo instruments, silver and gold kazoos, and many more. From the museum space, you can view kazoos being made on the original equipment. Our staff will be happy to explain the manufacturing process.

The Kazoo gift shop offers thousands of exciting and unusual items for that special gift or unique souvenir, such as jewelry, toys, wind chimes, cards, hand crafted items, books for all ages, and much, much more. Needless to say, we have a variety of kazoos to complete or start your own kazoo band.

We offer tours of the manufacturing facility to groups of all sizes. We request you call to make a reservation. Groups with more than six people must call to make arrangements. We look forward to seeing you at Reuter!

Visit the home of the Reuter Organ Company. Where Modern technology and old-world craftsmanship produces the finest organs made today.

Steinway & Sons was founded in 1853 by German immigrant Henry Engelhard Steinway in a Manhattan loft on Varick Street. Henry was a master cabinet maker who built his first piano in the kitchen of his Seesen, Germany home. By the time Henry established Steinway & Sons, he had built 482 pianos. The first piano produced by the company, number 483, was sold to a New York family for $500. It is now displayed at New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Over the next forty years, Henry and his sons, Henry Jr., Albert, C.F. Theodore, William, and Charles, developed the modern piano. Almost half of the company's 114 patented inventions were developed during this period. Many of these late nineteenth-century inventions were based on emerging scientific research, including the acoustical theories of the renowned physicist Hermann von Helmholtz.

Steinway's revolutionary designs and superior workmanship began receiving national recognition almost immediately. Starting in 1855, Steinway pianos received gold medals at several U.S. and European exhibitions. The company gained international recognition in 1867 at the Paris Exhibition when it was awarded the prestigious "Grand Gold Medal of Honor" for excellence in manufacturing and engineering. It was the first time an American company had received this award. Steinway pianos quickly became the piano of choice for many members of royalty and won the respect and admiration of the world's great pianists.

In 1866 Steinway & Sons opened the first Steinway Hall on 14th Street. With a main auditorium of 2,000 seats, it became New York City's artistic and cultural center, housing the New York Philharmonic until Carnegie Hall opened in 1891. By this time, the company had moved to its current location in the Astoria section of Queens, New York, and built Steinway Village. Virtually its own town, Steinway Village had its own foundries, factory, post office, parks and housing for employees.

In 1871, Henry Sr. died and sons C.F. Theodore and William took over operations. An accomplished pianist, C.F. Theodore was responsible for the technical aspects of piano making and personally earned the company 41 patents, including one in 1875 for the modern concert grand piano. In the same year, William helped establish a showroom in London. Five years later, in 1880, the Hamburg factory began operating and a retail operation, the Steinway-Haus, was established. Another retail operation opened in Berlin in 1909.

Today, Steinway & Sons crafts approximately 5,000 pianos a year worldwide. Over 1300 prominent concert artists and ensembles across the world bear the title Steinway Artist. No artist or ensemble is a paid endorser of the piano. Each Steinway Artist personally owns a Steinway and has chosen to perform on the Steinway piano professionally. In North America, artists select their Steinway for concert performances from the company's unique "piano bank," an inventory of more than 300 pianos valued at over $15 million.

Pianos are placed throughout North America and are maintained to concert standards by an exclusive network of Steinway dealers. The famed "basement" of New York's Steinway Hall, at 109 West 57th Street in New York City, is the bank's home office. Branch piano banks are maintained at Steinway dealerships in cities throughout the country to serve performing artists. In all other countries, major concert venues in each town own Steinway & Sons instruments which the artist can use.

Seated in his neat, spacious office in Taylor Guitars' factory complex in El Cajon, California, company co-founder and CEO Kurt Listug cannot stifle a laugh as he studies a faded snapshot. The photograph, mined from the depths of an old cardboard box filled with dusty memorabilia, depicts the original Taylor shop on its very first day of existence -- October 15, 1974.

On the left, pony-tailed, 22-year-old employee Tim Luranc is examining something, while then-part-owner Steve Schemmer shovels water from the floor into a bucket. A companion photo shows the adjoining room on the same day. Crude, garish, overhead lights illuminate a funky old refrigerator amid indistinguishable clutter; a "humidity-controlled" booth with plastic-film walls; and a rough concrete floor pocked with puddles of standing water and clumps of soggy sawdust. "Primitive" and "wet" aptly describe both scenes.

In Taylor's early days, the morning after a rainstorm frequently began with cleaning up pools of water and soggy sawdust caused by flooding.
"That place was so bad," Listug recalls, shaking his head. "The roof leaked like crazy, and whenever it rained, the place flooded. It rained hard the night before we opened, so we spent the entire morning of our first day in business trying to get as much water out of there as we could."

"See those clumps of wet sawdust? When it flooded, we'd take all the sawdust that we'd already swept up, and sprinkle it around the floor to soak up the water. It made the place even more of a pig sty," he says, laughing. "But it was fun. What did we know? We were just kids. Somehow, we'd skirted having to get real jobs. We didn't have a boss, we were making guitars. What could be better?"

Despite the semi-aquatic conditions and inauspicious circumstances of Taylor's first few days of life, Listug's voice betrays a genuine wistfulness as he recalls the "hungry years" that made it possible for the company to be celebrating its 25th Anniversary in 1999. Listug enjoys reminiscing about the long, painstaking process of co-shepherding Taylor Guitars from its humble, naive beginnings to its current status as one of the world's most successful and highly regarded acoustic guitar manufacturers.

In one respect, there is no escaping the company's history, thanks to numerous human and material reminders of the company's scuffling days that can be found throughout Taylor's modern, high-tech facility. Primary among these, of course, are Taylor and Listug, who have made musical-instrument history by becoming the first American luthiers in this century to take an acoustic guitar company from one-off shop to production-level manufacturer without relinquishing ownership or creative control. Other first-decade Taylorites who are either still on the job, or who have left and come back, include Luranc (profiled in the Summer 1994 issue of our quarterly newsletter, Wood&Steel), Steve Baldwin (1983--), and Bob Zink (1984--profiled in the Fall '98 issue).

Among significant relics are a few early-vintage Taylor guitars that have been re-acquired over the years, and which repose in a safe place known only to Bob Taylor. Several tidy binders and scrapbooks on file in the current building's conference room contain articles and advertisements that delineate Taylor's progress from baby steps to leaps. Still, it's the cardboard box that provides Taylor and Listug their best opportunity to relish the sometimes poignant, often hilarious chronicles of the firm's first two decades. Looking at photographs of the duo as long-haired, bearded teenagers, Listug effortlessly spins anecdotes, punctuating his commentary with frequent, almost reflexive chuckling.

"I remember, as a teenager, driving with my parents past this guitar-repair shop called the Blue Guitar, in the Old Town area of San Diego," he said. "I thought guitars were the coolest thing, and I couldn't imagine anything cooler than working on them for a living. So, I pestered Sam Radding, owner of the American Dream shop in Lemon Grove, to hire me, even though I didn't have any of the necessary skills. Eventually, a work bench opened up, and I quit my job painting buildings at San Diego State University and started doing finishing work. That was in August 1973.

"A week or two later, Bob Taylor got a bench there. He'd been coming around for a while, buying guitar parts and showing Sam the guitars he'd made. At the time, Bob was 18 and I was 20."

In spite of his hirsute appearance, the young Taylor was quiet, reserved, and very "straight," and, for a while, the rest of the American Dream employees more or less ignored him. One day, Bob abruptly put an end to that.

"He came in where a few of us were eating lunch, sat down, and firmly announced, 'Well, I'm Bob Taylor,'" Listug remembers. "It was a real ice-breaker, and after that we all got along great."

"I remember being quite the odd duck in a real hippie shop," Taylor admits. "My hair was a lot longer, and I had a beard, but otherwise I was just a clean-cut boy in a white t-shirt who went to church three times a week with his mom and dad and sister. My whole life experience up to that time was just being a 'good boy.' I'd never been in trouble in my life; I spent my time in school doing projects and getting straight A's, winning industrial-arts expositions. I didn't know what alcohol or drugs were. Still don't. Didn't know about college, or girls, or anything except tools, and working with things. And here I was, working with these kids who, compared to me, were partying, wise-to-the-world, guitar-building, hippie musicians. So, Kurt, Bob Huff, Michael Stewart, Steve Hilliard, Sam Radding, and Barbie Cousins -- they'd be off to the side, giggling at me."
You might say that Taylor ended up at American Dream partly by default, partly by provident design. As a 17-year-old, he had seen a 12-string acoustic guitar in a local store window, and, lacking the funds to purchase it, had decided to make his own. He built three guitars while still in high school, working on them at night in the back of a service station, in between filling gas tanks and wiping windshields. Eventually, Taylor took his finished instruments to Sam Radding at American Dream. Radding was convinced that he had a future in the trade.

During their first year at American Dream, Taylor and Listug made a few guitars, but mostly did repairs. When Radding decided to sell the business in 1974, the employees split into rival purchasing groups of two, each team jockeying for position while trying to figure out how to come up with the requisite capital. Finally, a triumvirate of Taylor, Listug, and Schemmer bought the American Dream. Euphoric with ambition, they renamed it the Westland Music Company.

"We thought that would sound impressive, and make people think we were bigger than we really were," Listug laughs. "But Bob was the real guitar-maker, and, besides, we had to have a logo that would fit on the headstock, so we soon named the guitars Taylor guitars."

By the time the fledgling company hoisted its new banner, Taylor and Listug had a pretty clear idea of how their guitars would differ from others on the market. Their first few instruments certainly functioned well enough, but they weren't exactly things of beauty.

"Those first guitars had some structural problems, and sometimes the backs would ripple," Listug recalls. "We knew they couldn't compete, aesthetically, with the best guitars on the market, so we just kept working at it until we had a marketable-looking guitar."

After selling a few prototypes at the workshop, the partners decided to take their wares directly to dealers. In 1976, Listug loaded some guitars into Bob Taylor's van and headed for the music stores in Los Angeles. "They liked them, and I actually came home with checks in my hand," Listug says.

One of the first dealers to buy a Taylor guitar was the venerable McCabe's, in Santa Monica. John Zehnder, who today is the store's chief repairman, director of its music school, and banjo and mandolin instructor, remembers those first Taylors.

"In 1976, Taylors provided an affordable and viable alternative to Martins, which were the standard," Zehnder said in a phone interview. "The Taylors' low-profile necks, and the fact that they offered several choices as to neck widths, were a real advantage. Plus, they sounded good, and, because of the way they were made [with bolt-on necks], we were able to make repairs instantly, which was greatly appreciated by our customers. In many ways, Taylor guitars were a real breath of fresh air."

Random acceptance, however, did not translate to across-the-board success. Wholesale receipts just barely enabled the luthiers to continue making guitars.

"We got into this business just as the acoustic guitar market was going south in a big way," Taylor says. "It was dying a cruel death. We first started trying to sell Taylor guitars at a time when Mossman, Gurian, and LoPrinzi [guitars] were just peaking, so every time Kurt would get to a store, another rep had just been there, and the dealer would say, 'Oh, we just took on the Mossman line. We don't have any money left.'

"I remember one particularly bad day, clear as a bell," Taylor continues. "It was Friday, the end of another work week. There was no money; we were so broke. It was a pretty depressing scene. Then, late in the day, this guy came into the shop. His name was Charlie See -- grandson of Martha See, founder of See's Candies. He ended up buying a guitar that was hanging on the wall, and ordered a Brazilian rosewood 815 with abalone on it. It was about 7:30 that evening by the time he left, and he wrote us a check for $1,873, which was like a hundred-thousand bucks to us! All of a sudden, we were back in business. We had enough money to pay that month's $163 rent and buy more supplies. We could make guitars for another week or two."

In 1977, Taylor Guitars linked up with a distributor in the hope of boosting sales. It would prove to be an unproductive move.

"We ended up getting only $150 for a 510, $380 for an 855," Taylor recalls. "That was a very unprofitable time, but it was a great learning time. It forced me to learn something about production techniques. I had to separate the chaff from the wheat -- what's important, what's not important. The main improvement was simply getting past a stupid mental barrier -- the notion that if you take a lot of time to accomplish a task, somehow it's better than accomplishing the same task, just as well, in less time. I'm glad I was very young when I learned that that notion just doesn't make sense."

Taylor and Listug ended their affiliation with the distributor in 1979, but for years, the company remained fixed at a plateau of making 10 guitars a week and not seeing a profit. Because they were unable to break into any new markets, newly finished guitars just lay, unsold, around the shop. Bills went unpaid.

"We were really stupid," Listug recalls with a grin. "We thought that if we simply made more guitars, we'd make more money. So, we'd hire extra people to turn out more instruments, and then we'd have to spend more time and money marketing the extra production. All we were doing was raising the overhead. And, without any capital to pay for expansion, we just dug ourselves a deeper hole of debt. Then, Bob got married, and one day he said, 'If I can't make a living at this, why am I doing it?'"

"Actually, by that time, I'd kind of mentally burned my bridges as far as doing anything else was concerned," Taylor allows. "Every once in a while, people would ask me, 'Well, what if it just doesn't work out?' And I'd say, 'It has to work out.' I detested the thought of having to explain to everyone why I quit. That kept me going more than anything else -- the fear that for two years or more, I'd have to run into people who'd ask, 'What happened?' and I'd have to explain that we weren't doing well and had to give it up."

To save the business, the partners fired everyone and slowed production. In the short term, that enabled each of them to take home $100 per week -- enough to make ends meet. Gradually, they paid past-due bills and retired ancient debts. It was, to be sure, a meager living.

"When we got to the point where we could take home $200 a week, I thought we were doing great," Listug says. "I had a friend who was making $300 a week, and I remember thinking, 'Whoa -- $300 a week!'"

Adversity, it would seem, is best visited upon the young, who don't know enough to be stymied by it. As lean as things were, the Taylor gang never was at a loss for good times.

"Matt Guzzetta [currently Taylor's Senior Machine and Tool Designer] ran a motorcycle gas tank manufacturing shop right next door," Taylor remembered. "We'd have these big, pot-luck, music-and-food parties once a month on a Saturday night. Everyone would open their shop and we'd have maybe four local bands going -- a lot of really great San Diego players. Matt ran his shop for years, and when it finally closed, I had him do a job for me at Taylor Guitars, and he's been here ever since. But if you ask Matt -- as much as he likes working here -- he'll tell you that we ruined everything and began going 'downhill' after we stopped having those parties."

In 1981, Taylor Guitars took out a bank loan to purchase equipment that would enable them to smooth out some production wrinkles. But without the benefit of marketing, unsold guitars continued to pile up. A year later, they sold a number of guitars to a single dealer, and used the cash to put Listug on the road in a quest for new dealers.

"I told him, 'Don't even come back if you don't get any orders,'" Taylor laughs.

Listug's new role of traveling salesman took him throughout California and as far as Maine. Being away from the daily grind of the business renewed his energy and perspective, but the trip wasn't without its disasters.

"I had second thoughts about all this when my car broke down in a snowstorm in Wisconsin," he says. "But the dealers I visited loved our guitars. On the way home, I sold the six guitars I had with me, so we had cash for Christmas."

In 1983, Taylor and Listug bought out Schemmer. Newly equipped with machines they'd designed to handle the most laborious aspects of tooling and processing raw materials, the streamlined company finally began turning a profit. The influx of money was spent on technical refinements that resulted in higher-caliber guitars. Things were looking up, but a breakthrough was needed. It would come from a most unexpected source.

In the mid-'80s, synthesized rock so dominated the charts and airwaves that acoustic guitars seemed anachronistic -- the implements of coffeehouse folkies and '60s diehards. Up to that time, Taylor Guitars had allowed its distributor to represent the company at the semi-annual trade shows of the National Association of Music Merchants (NAMM). But, in 1984, Taylor and Listug exhibited their own guitars at the winter NAMM show, and ran smack into that era's industry realities.
"Those NAMM shows were hard," Listug says. "We were set up near the Martin booth in 1985, when we showed our Artist Series [limited-edition, color-stained guitars]. Even Martin was singing the blues about how lousy business was."

Hoping to lure rockers into trying their acoustics, Taylor and Listug accepted a challenge from Glenn Wetterlund of Podium Music in Minneapolis to create a guitar for one of the day's superstars -- Prince, who needed a 12-string for some recording sessions. At the time, Prince was in his "purple" phase, so Taylor made him a purple-stained 655. But, there was a catch: Prince would not perform with instruments bearing a visible brand name. As a result, Taylor would make a guitar that would be seen by millions (Prince played it in both his Purple Rain and Live Aid videos) -- and the Taylor logo would be nowhere in sight.

Whether the "Prince guitar" in any way impacted the eventual re-emergence of the acoustic guitar is debatable, but it sure didn't hurt Taylor Guitars. By then, word of Bob Taylor's handiwork was spreading through the music world, and famous and unknown musicians alike were snapping up his guitars. In the hope o1

The story of Walter Piano Company is the story of a man and his family. Born in 1927, Charles R. Walter grew up in the rural American setting of Watseka, Illinois. His early life was that of a baker's son, but young Charles soon showed interest in things technical and scientific.

In 1947 Charles entered the University of Illinois. Four years later he graduated from the School of Engineering Physics with a Bachelor's Degree and a new bride at his side, the former Barbara McCullough also of Watseka, Illinois.

In 1964 Mr. Walter joined C.G. Conn, Ltd. and three years later was appointed Head of Piano Design and Development Engineering under Dr. Earle Kent, Director of Research and Engineering. Dr. Kent saw in Charles a man well-qualified in engineering and science but not indoctrinated into the usual and traditional approaches to piano design.

During the years at Conn (1964 to 1969), Mr. Walter began to assimilate his engineering background, talents, and experience with the peculiar demands of piano acoustical design. In 1969, when Conn decided to discontinue their Janssen piano division, Charles and his wife were quick to pursue the opportunity to fulfill a growing dream - the dream to build an all new console and studio piano of the very finest sound and quality.

During the following few years, Mr. Walter continued to produce Janssen pianos of recognized quality. Then, in 1975, he introduced the 43" Charles R. Walter Piano to the keyboard market. In the years to follow, Charles R. Walter pianos grew in popularity as their quality and sound became more widely recognized.

With his wife by his side, the early days were filled with sweat and long hours, yet God gave the strength. A family was growing up in the piano factory! Kevin Charles, thirteen years old and the only son amidst three sisters, was receiving a steady diet of love, Christian faith, and pianos! From floor sweeping, to stringing, to finishing, to final inspection, Kevin learned the art and science of building fine pianos.

Since then, three sons-in-law have joined the company: Richard A. Counsellor, a graduate engineer of LeTourneau, Virgil W. Weso, an engineering and business and masters graduate of Purdue University and Stephen P. DeMercurio, Ball State University. A growing number of grandchildren are now joining the ranks of those who have a very "personal" interest in the Charles R. Walter piano.

The Charles R. Walter piano incorporates the finest and most advanced design that technology can provide. Careful attention was given to full bass performance through the use of long strings and a large solid spruce soundboard. Extensive work in scale design has provided smooth sound continuity across the keyboard, a singing treble, and a smooth precise tuning.

The piano has become so well recognized for its design superiority that Mr. Walter has become a frequently requested speaker on the topic of piano design and construction at piano technician seminars and state conventions throughout the United States.

Among modern pianos, the Charles R. Walter is unique for its superb blend of that which is the most advanced in modern technology and that which is the finest in old world craftsmanship.

The tour covers our showroom featuring the Walter Grands and computerized player pianos and the entire manufacturing facility which employs about 35 craftemen and technicians.