Requiem for the Boomer Burst

In an era when a car was the most exciting big ticket item around, the electric guitar followed, hoping to cash in on the flashy action. Gibson launched its first solidbody electric in shimmering gold like a brand new Cadillac. A decade later, they hired an automotive designer to freshen up their line, creating the Firebird and Thunderbird. Fender unabashedly named products after the iron rolling out of Detroit and England, finished appropriately enough with automotive paint colors. Mosrite dazzled Ventures fans with metallic lacquer, and even Gretsch got into the act with opaque car colors. By the mid-1960s, it seemed as though the electric guitar had left its old-world lineage in the rearview mirror.

Then, in 1966, something remarkable happened. A handful of young guitarists started gigging with older, used guitars that were finished more like the back of a violin than a Shelby Cobra. Keith Richards, Michael Bloomfield, Eric Clapton, and Peter Green all put their stink of approval on guitars that bore more resemblance to a 17th century dining table than a Corvette. Whether it was the sound and romance of old guitars, or just a changing of the guard, isn’t clear, but it was a ripple in the ether that slowly grew into a giant wave. By 1970, the “Burst” had become the holy grail, and sunburst finishes were giving solid colors a run for their money. The vintage electric trade was in its infancy—but the die had been cast. By the turn of the century, the sunburst, figured-maple top had become the gold standard. Builders invented terms such as “Ten Top” and “AAAAA-figure” to signal their product’s supremacy in the burst wars.