Bob Taylor seated on stack of mahogany wood

BobSpeak

An Epoch Journey

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As Taylor celebrates its 50th year in business, Bob recalls different phases of the company’s evolution.

Taylor Guitars was born on October 15, 1974, so I have three-quarters of this year left to go before I can say this is officially our 50th anniversary. But on that day I intend to lift a glass. Still, we’re into our 50th year, and I can’t help but reflect. I was told recently that when Fender reached their 50th anniversary, Leo Fender had been gone 29 years. Well, folks, I’m still here, hard to get rid of, and happy to say it’s been the joy of my life to have such a rich passion and career, and that I am jealous of no one.

When I think of the chapters that make up the last 50 years, they were all meaningful little epochs. The first years of finding satisfaction from working day and night with my hands, developing my skills as a guitar maker, and learning how difficult it was to get it all right. Living through the days of being unknown and not being able to sell enough guitars to make things work. Setting up our first trade show booths, being full of excitement to show our guitars, that wonderful smell of freshly printed color catalogs that cost us our last red cent, and the smell of new carpet in the aisleways. Building the smallest of a factory and adding to it in tools and craftspeople. Training people to make a guitar body, a neck, putting a good finish on the guitar. Frets, tapped into fingerboards with a hammer, dressed with a sanding block and files.

Things got easier as the factory and the team grew in ability. Then came the reality that the wood we used was in shorter supply and regulated more each year. Words like “sustainability” started to have meaning, not only for the long future but for the near term. While this was becoming apparent in my mind, our guitars started growing up as we developed our own unique shapes, styles and trade dress. We grew proud that although we were coming late to the party, in style, sound and feel, we were unique. We were Taylor Guitars; we weren’t copies of the other brands. This isn’t the easiest thing to accomplish, but it happened, slowly but surely.

Our production grew. We became an important part of the market. We acquired haters! You know you’re making some kind of impact when people criticize virtually everything you make, say, sell and think. On the other hand, we had lovers. People who loved our guitars, and in fact, the hard numbers showed that a little more than 40 percent of guitar buyers voted with their wallets in our favor. Still, the haters affected me inside, even when we had success.

The day came to put more effort into where and how our wood makes its way to our doors. In some cases, there’s no problem, like with our friends at Pacific Rim Tonewoods in Washington State, or Gemwood in India, or Madinter in Spain. But in other cases, it felt best to be more involved to the point of making partnerships where we could, and that came with both ebony wood and koa wood. Thus, we went into partnerships with Madinter on ebony in Cameroon, and Pacific Rim Tonewoods with koa in Hawaii. What good decisions those were. Then came West Coast Arborists, who allowed us to source end-of-life urban trees of California, with which we’ve made thousands of guitars.

We grew proud that, in style, sound and feel, our guitars were unique; they weren’t copies of the other brands.

Along came Andy Powers, who joined our team as Chief Guitar Designer. He has haters too. I feel better now. But again, he’s got lovers. And we made a good partnership with him, literally through equity in the company — the first time Kurt and I took on another partner in Taylor ownership.

There was the day we became 100-percent employee-owned, intended to keep Taylor as close to what it was, and is, long into the future as Kurt and I age out. Father Time always wins in the end, so why deny that, and this is how we faced that eventuality. Afterward, we made Andy President and CEO. Yes, there are changes, but we make them as best we can.

Fifty years of changes. Factories in the U.S. and Mexico, our own distribution nearly worldwide, wood operations in Cameroon and Hawaii. Tax returns in more countries and states than I can remember to cite. Laws, regulations, employees, cultures, languages. For those of you reading this, you may not realize we print our Wood&Steel product guide in six languages.

These are the epochs of Taylor Guitars over 50 years, at least as I think back on our experiences. It’s really something to me. It’s humbling to know that you are reading this because you like our guitars and are interested in our company. Of course, the backbone of all this is the guitar and you the player. That’s what it’s all about.

So, in 800 words, you’ve read our 50-year history. But if you want more, Kurt and I have recorded podcasts recounting our history together that we will release this year in episodes. We talk in depth. We remember. There are some great stories there that even I like hearing! If you’re curious, I hope you have a listen.

Thank you for 50 years!

Bob Taylor seated on stack of mahogany wood

BobSpeak

My First Fork

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Bob remembers his childhood friend Mike Broward, who helped spark his passion for guitars.

I’ve been thinking. It seems like life might be comprised of small forks in the road. I also think you only know which were the most important ones when you look back. A month ago, an important fork in my road passed away. And I’ve been thinking about it. Not it, rather, him.

Mike Broward.

Here are some questions I get asked over and over: “Bob, what was the day you knew you’d make guitars?” “When did your big break come?” “What happened that changed it all?” “Did you always know Taylor Guitars would be this huge success?”

My answers are always, “None of the above.” I never felt like “this was the day it all started” or “this was the day it all changed.” It’s always been a progression, and often it felt like regression, or at least backwards progress if there is such a thing.

I’d always try to give a writer a big moment since they were waiting to hear, and relay, that in their story. Eventually I quit making moments seem bigger than they really were. But I had to figure out how to not be rude or uninteresting, so I would highlight important forks in my road — nudges that helped our progress in one way or the other. Recently I realized Mike Broward was my first fork, because without him, there’s a good chance there’d be no Taylor Guitars.

When I was in the third grade, about 8 years old, there was a kid across the street who played guitar. His name was Mike. He’d stand in his garage facing out to the street. He had an electric guitar and an amp with a mic plugged in, and he’d play and sing to the street. I think he might have been about 11 or 12 years old at the time. He was certainly older than me. I remember the songs he’d play. Some surf songs. Some early ’60s British rock ‘n’ roll — “Mrs. Brown, you’ve got a lovely daughter,” he’d sing, mimicking a British accent. I’d watch for as long as he’d play or until my dad called me in for dinner.

I bought a junky acoustic guitar from him for three dollars, and he taught me how to play “Green Onions.” Single notes. No chords. They came later when he taught me the chords to “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore.”

That guitar fascinated me so much. How was it built? I had to know. It had painted-on binding that I sanded off and repainted. It wasn’t long before I sawed the neck off to keep it aside because I wanted to build an electric guitar like Mike’s, using that neck. That whole attempt failed.

Mike was a good boyhood friend who uncovered my love of guitars, and I tell you right now, I might not have found that love anywhere else at any other time. And when I think about it, that three-dollar guitar was cheap enough that I had no problem sanding it, painting it and sawing off the neck. What if it had been a good guitar? My life could have been very different.

Without Mike, there’s a good chance there’d be no Taylor Guitars.

I moved to a new neighborhood after knowing Mike for two years. I was in business for 20 years before we made contact again. And after that, over the past 30 years, we would write, say hi, try to get together.

Mike never left the guitar. He was a professional player and singer his whole life, right up until he passed away. He wrote, played and sang island music, beach music, weekend music. And he was good. His acoustic was a Taylor, and that made me proud. He passed away innocently; he got sick and died all within a couple weeks, to everyone’s shock.

Thank you to Mike Broward for being such a positive and important fork in the road for me. It’s only looking back that I feel this strongly about it, even though I’ve written about Mike many times. With the passing of Jimmy Buffett just a few weeks after Mike, we lost two Parrot Heads. I loved them both; they both brought us great music. But Mike brought me something else besides. If you’d like to listen to him, you can find him on YouTube.

BobSpeak

Growing Something Good

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Sometimes it takes years to cultivate something of value, whether it’s a guitar or a tree.

I can’t help but want to talk a bit about Andy’s new electric guitar, which he’s branded Powers Electric. It’s a fabulous guitar, and in this issue, Kurt and Andy talk about it, and you’ll find a feature article from our editor, Jim Kirlin. It’s fun to hear everyone’s point of view about the creation of this guitar. Of course, Andy’s is the most important because it’s about the guitar and all the ideas he’s been mulling over for years. Andy is a bit like me in that we tend to make the things we cannot buy. Andy couldn’t buy the guitar he wanted, so he made it. The cool thing is that you’ll be able to buy it — although maybe not all of you right away, because initially it can only be made in small quantities.

I like the way Kurt is not only a colleague but a fan of Andy. He and Andy have a great relationship and can talk well about design, business and brand. They get into it, and out of that comes respect and admiration for the opinions of the other. It’s great for them to be able to discuss things, and I know Kurt and Andy have discussed the future progress of Powers Electric a lot.

Andy is a bit like me in that we tend to make the things we cannot buy.

Andy works mostly alone when he’s developing his ideas. Each Friday, he works from his home studio, where he can work mostly undisturbed. Soon he brings something in and shows it to me or Kurt, or a few others, in order to share his thoughts by way of showing and playing a guitar. He gets excited, and it’s always best to share excitement. I tend to do that very early with my ideas, and often by tomorrow I’ve worked my way more into the idea or even out of it completely. Andy shares much later, and depending on who he’s sharing the idea with, it might be when it’s nearly complete. He’s got patience. I get to see earlier versions, which is nice.

Sometimes I have a comment or question about one small aspect or another, and that might even spark some ideas that Andy considers. The process is fun to be part of. It’s always rewarding to see something from the earliest prototype (which is always a playable guitar) to the refined product that his Powers Electric guitar is now.

We have a saying about development: “We’re 90 percent there and 90 percent left to go.” This was certainly the case as I watched Andy bring in his team of machinists, engineers, crafters, finishers, luthiers, sewers, graphic artists and a healthy dose of jack-of-all-trades people. That last 10 percent of work left to do is like getting ready for an F1 race, where every little detail is important.

We have a saying about development: “We’re 90 percent there and 90 percent left to go.”

It’s turning out great and is a pleasure to be a part of. We’re taking it slow. It’s not a race to any level of high production. We have the luxury of taking our time.

However, I’m hoping it doesn’t take as long as it takes for an ebony tree to grow. In this issue, Scott Paul recounts our trip to Cameroon earlier in the year. It was long anticipated after not going for a couple of years due to travel restrictions. It was great to see Crelicam, our ebony sawmill, and give all our 50-some co-workers a big hug. And to get out to the forest and visit the local villages that are planting as part of the Ebony Project was so rewarding, We were so pleasantly surprised at how well the ebony trees are surviving and growing: healthy, straight and strong.

We’ve also made huge progress in the planting of various fruit trees alongside the ebonies, which was a promise but at first proved to be more difficult than establishing the ebony trees. We never would have thought that in the beginning, especially because planting ebony was a mystery, since nobody had ever done it before in any significant way. It was rewarding to see the progress, and to realize that even during the pandemic, our project continued to grow and prosper because our talent is there in Cameroon and doesn’t depend on outsiders. Just that fact alone has caused a lot of other projects in the area to perk up and take notice.

Even during the pandemic, our project continued to grow and prosper because our talent is there in Cameroon and doesn’t depend on outsiders.

One thing that I love about digital Wood&Steel is our ability to use video to convey stories. You’ll find a nice short video of our trip there. And a long video of how guitar tops are made at Pacific Rim Tonewoods, our longtime supplier of spruce and maple, and our partner in koa. We’d not be what we are today without them. This video is documentary-length but well worth the view if learning more about guitars is one of your pleasures. I’m assuming that since you’re reading Wood&Steel, that that’s the case. Enjoy that video. It explains so much.

I also want to mention Andy Allo, who joined Scott and me in Cameroon on this trip. You’ll see her in the video (with more to come). She’s a terrific musician and actor. She stars in the Amazon Series Upload, which I really enjoy and you might also. I’ve taken a lot of people to Cameroon, but she was the easiest. I mean, she grew up there, and I didn’t have to explain a thing. She busted out her long unused French and told me what people were saying, which is always a help to me. It was a pleasure getting to know her. If you watch Upload, you’ll notice she smiles when she speaks. And she smiled her way to the forest and back with us in Cameroon. Boy, I liked that.

BobSpeak

When Impatience Is a Virtue

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After five decades in the guitar business, Bob has learned that while some things are worth waiting for, responsiveness and urgency are key drivers of innovation.

As I write this, it’s the beginning of 2023. If I add in my year at the American Dream, where I worked at age 18 before Kurt and I started Taylor Guitars when I was 19, this marks almost half a century that I’ve managed to avoid getting a job! You have no idea how thankful I am about that.

This career, while it’s worked me to the bone at times, and worried me to no end at times, and put me in the poor house for the first 10 years, is the joy of my life. It’s hard to describe how at home I feel here at Taylor Guitars and how each passing year stays so interesting.

Speaking of the American Dream, we have new offerings in the line that you’ll learn about in this issue. A little history is that when Kurt and I bought the American Dream shop in 1974, there was a problem that we only discovered after the sale. It prevented us from being able to use the name. It’s one of the reasons we went with Taylor, but we loved the name American Dream Guitars. What a disappointment on our first day to learn we couldn’t use it.

But time marched on, the name later became available, and we registered it, long after Taylor was on the scene. In order to keep the registration, we had to make a couple of American Dream-branded guitars every so often, and I think that interval was about once every 10 years. So we did.

Over the years, I’ve been displeased with ourselves for being too patient with things that could improve faster.

During COVID, when supplies were scarce, and sales were uncertain, and our Tecate factory was shuttered, the perfect opportunity presented itself to dust off that name and let it live. Thus, the Taylor American Dream Series was born. It’s significant to Kurt and me. I love that we use it and that it happened organically. I love that the series has a legit design and offers a lot of quality at a good price. It’s amazing how things can just come to you if you can be patient and let them come.

But patience needs to be well placed. Over the years, I’ve been displeased with ourselves for being too patient with things that could improve faster. And I’ve been pleased when the need presented itself and we jumped on an improvement, an innovation or even an outright invention because it needed doing and we weren’t going to wait. It’s how we redesigned our necks to make them straighter and more serviceable. Or how we had to jump in and literally invent processes to make the first acoustics with UV-cured finishes that performed better, while also meeting California’s very strict emission regulations. Patience would have been the enemy then. Or how about getting trees into the ground? I’m glad we’re doing that. Impatiently plant, then patiently wait.

I’m deeply pleased with all the inventions and innovations that Andy has brought to the table. From subtle changes to inventions like V-Class bracing or the highly contoured, ergonomic Builder’s Edition models, especially those with contoured cutaways, which are very difficult to implement.

I wish you could see some of what Andy’s working on daily — the things being developed right now. It’s exciting stuff. He has great ideas, which makes me excited about the future. And he has a whole team of can-do people here to help work his designs into production. I call that “industrializing” the idea. I love taking an idea and working out the building method so it can be done effectively and in sufficient volume to allow players to access them as guitars. I have to say that watching our engineering and tooling group work with Andy to bring these designs to life is a real pleasure. And then our builders, who will learn any new skill cheerfully and quickly.

So, I’m looking forward to another year of guitar making. It’s never been dull, nor stagnant, nor easy. But it’s been deeply rewarding, and I’m super thankful for that.

BobSpeak

Andy in the Passing Lane

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Bob reflects on shifting into a supporting role as Andy Powers leads the company forward.

Well, here I am, a little farther from the front of the Wood&Steel cover than before. As my dear friend Jesus Jurado, who lives in Tijuana and drives his Land Cruiser exploring and camping with me in Baja, and who retired a couple years ago from Taylor Guitars, says, “We gotta pull over and let the young ones pass.” And I’m happy to do it. Andy Powers is in the passing lane, and I’m pulling over to let him go around. You’ll be hearing what he thinks not only as our Chief Guitar Designer, but as President and CEO.

I’m increasingly hearing about quality sleep, how we have to know that we’re getting the right sleep in the right quantity. Everyone wants me to see a sleep doctor, so I did. I don’t sleep a lot of hours and haven’t for decades; I’m a five- or six-hour-a-night sleeper. I think I sleep enough, but they have me all worried about it now! Well, the doctor came in and asked why I’m here. I told him what I just told you. Then I said, “I just want to know if I’m asleep when I’m sleeping!” He laughed and said that’s a good way to put it, and he has ways to find out the answer.

That little expression gave me an idea to say something I thought you’d like to know about Andy. That is, Andy is thoughtful when he thinks. Lots of people think, but are they thoughtful, do they consider all the angles, can they form an opinion that seems correct? After they’re done thinking, do they present a way forward? The evidence clearly points out that many people don’t exercise quality thinking. But Andy does and does it very well.

I can’t name another major guitar manufacturer whose President and CEO is also their Chief Guitar Designer.


Everyone here at Taylor Guitars knows that, which is why we’re all thrilled to see Andy take the position of both CEO and President, which were Kurt and my positions respectively. I don’t know anyone at Taylor who isn’t happy and confident about this change, and so I thought you might want to hear from me so you could join us in welcoming Andy to the position. I can’t name another major guitar manufacturer whose President and CEO is also their Chief Guitar Designer. What this means to Taylor Guitars and our customers is that the business of guitars and the making of guitars will remain holistically intertwined, as they have been here for 48 years. This is good. Andy won’t sacrifice one for the other. We know this, and I wanted to share that with you.

As for me, I’m still here nearly every single day. Yes, I get to take a little more time away now at the age of 67. I have lots to offer, but the best thing I can offer is to pull over to let some others pass. And I get the privilege of being an advisor or sounding board, and sometimes even heading up a project. There’s still a lot of meaningful work and fun left for me — things I can do to help Andy along his path and help our employee-owners build the company. And for the most part, Andy seems confident that I can work independently without doing too much harm! I do love to help. I also know my way around the campus and even know a few shortcuts.

Seriously, though, when I hired Andy 11 years ago, I told people that I’m living to watch him soar. I’m still doing that today and can’t think of a better thing to do for years to come.

Congratulations on your new responsibilities, Andy. You can count on my help and support!

BobSpeak

Planting a Guitar Garden

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Bob reflects on the efforts underway in Hawaii to grow guitar-grade koa for the future.

Well, here I am, a little farther from the front of the Wood&Steel cover than before. As my dear friend Jesus Jurado, who lives in Tijuana and drives his Land Cruiser exploring and camping with me in Baja, and who retired a couple years ago from Taylor Guitars, says, “We gotta pull over and let the young ones pass.” And I’m happy to do it. Andy Powers is in the passing lane, and I’m pulling over to let him go around. You’ll be hearing what he thinks not only as our Chief Guitar Designer, but as President and CEO.

Just the idea of using ebony with brown streaks has helped pave the way for living within the realities of the forest, even when it comes to other species of wood. Today is likely the easiest day there will be for ages to obtain properly sourced guitar woods, and I say that because tomorrow will be more difficult — it’s a given. And the day after that more difficult. But today’s guitar players help ease that, as they are becoming more enlightened on how these days are different than the old days and are more accepting of cosmetic differences.

A current exception to the above statement of today being the easiest day for obtaining quality wood could very well be koa. This edition of Wood&Steel will not only introduce you to our new 700 Series, made from koa, but also to Siglo Tonewoods through a great article by editor Jim Kirlin. Siglo Tonewoods was co-founded by Pacific Rim Tonewoods and Taylor Guitars about seven years ago. We’ve been busy working since then and have some things to report.

From your end, you see nice wood on guitars showing up in guitar shops, and we like that. But from our end, it’s quite a strategic operation to find wood to cut while at the same time addressing the fear of cutting it all down and then having nothing. What do you do then? Stand back in surprise and wonder how this happened? It’s happened with so many other species, but we have a very good chance to change that with koa. How?

Enter Steve McMinn. Now that will be the least favorite sentence in my column if Steve reads this, as he doesn’t like accolades, but truly, he’s the one who can put together and enable a team to work together to solve this problem. Steve isn’t just interested in planting trees, he wants to grow them. And he’s not interested in growing bad trees, he wants them to be good. The Siglo team is doing just that. Steve and I will be dead when the proof comes, but we hope for good indications along the way that the work is successful and worthy.

Imagine what it takes to make a seed that always produces the tomato you expect. Now imagine what it takes to come up with seeds to make good koa trees.

Imagine you’re planting a vegetable garden. And you choose all your seeds from a catalog that promises specific outcomes and also promises they’re right for your local conditions. If you’ve done that, and many of us have, even if just with a tomato, did you ever wonder how those seeds got into that little envelope and how they can promise what you can expect? If not, you might wonder that right now because while we take that as a given, it wasn’t always that way.

Horticulturists had to develop those seeds. Imagine what it takes to make a seed for a seedless watermelon! Or a seed that always makes the tomato you expect. Think about it. And now that your mind is working, imagine what it takes to come up with seeds to make good koa trees. At least the watermelon will tell you in four months whether you failed or succeeded. The koa will take 25 to 50 years, and so it’s quite a bit more difficult.

To make matters a little worse, for hundreds and hundreds of years, people have tended to cut the best trees first, in many cases causing the forest’s genetic health to decline as a result. For many species, the best trees, which make the best seeds, are long gone. Only the lesser trees are left.

But there are methods to address this, as well as people with knowledge and talent. And like a great band that doesn’t have trouble attracting good musicians because it would be an honor to play with that band, our team is great enough that smart people see that and want to join and help. It’s attracted great talent. I was privileged to be able to buy a wonderful piece of land with great soil for us to plant our own trees on, plus we sell koa guitars, which drives the economic engine, but don’t think I’m the one who knows how to develop quality tree characteristics and then plan, plant and tend what will become an incredible forest.

I like to give credit where credit is due. I’m thrilled that we’re able to introduce you to our Siglo Tonewoods and Siglo Forest in this issue. There’s a great video about Siglo that Steve and the team worked to produce. I’m proud of the work there, and honored to be a part of it, and would like to extend my thanks and admiration to the Siglo team, which is broad and capable. Thank you all. You know who you are.

BobSpeak

Guitar Scales

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During a time of increased demand for guitars, Bob explains why Taylor’s production capability is good for everyone.

Well, here I am, a little farther from the front of the Wood&Steel cover than before. As my dear friend Jesus Jurado, who lives in Tijuana and drives his Land Cruiser exploring and camping with me in Baja, and who retired a couple years ago from Taylor Guitars, says, “We gotta pull over and let the young ones pass.” And I’m happy to do it. Andy Powers is in the passing lane, and I’m pulling over to let him go around. You’ll be hearing what he thinks not only as our Chief Guitar Designer, but as President and CEO.

That 40,000-guitar increase over 2019 is in itself larger than the annual production of most large acoustic guitar companies. It’s not easily done. Our effort was met by gratitude from our dealers, who saw our deliveries in a year when the walls of most guitar stores were largely empty. It was also met by criticism from some customers, albeit a minority, who wondered when Taylor would get serious and deliver guitars, as they had been unable to get one even after waiting and searching.

I’ll admit that for almost all of our Tecate-made guitars, there is higher demand than we can fill. We made an overabundance of Baby models because we had wood for those. We built new resources to obtain and process wood for our larger guitars made there, but everything else was way below demand. It’s hard to keep up with the demand, especially in that price range.

Before we started our Tecate factory more than 20 years ago, that price range was always filled in the market with products from offshore countries, mostly Asian at the time. Our foray into building quality guitars in Tecate has been met with very high acceptance. We feel like we have served a lot of guitar players. I have to say that when I watch talent shows on television and see young people compete with their GS Mini, Academy, Big Baby or 100 Series guitars and they sound as good on TV as any guitar could, it’s really gratifying. I know those players don’t have the money (yet) to buy the better, costlier guitars we or others make, but they didn’t have to compromise their music in spending what they had budget for.

The good thing about a factory is we can serve more people. Not only players, but vendors, employees, dealers and local communities.

As for our production in El Cajon, we also hit many records. The most guitars made. The widest price range. New offerings. Our quality did not suffer but pushed ahead as always, with Andy Powers at the helm designing new guitars. I’m pleased to see what’s planned for the years to come. There’s a lot of exciting stuff. Our R&D continues as normal, even though, frankly, we could set it aside to just fill demand, but that’s not us. We know it’s no good to relax on improving guitars for the future or creating new types of guitars.

I’ve said before, and it bears repeating, that I’ve always believed in factories to offer great products and great value. There are many great luthiers out there who make really nice guitars. I’m not jealous of what they do, nor would I downplay what they make. You should own one of their guitars, you really should. I’ll also say that when we look at the most sought-after vintage guitars, nearly all were made in factories. And the good thing about a factory is we can serve more people. Not only players, but vendors, employees, dealers and local communities.

I love factories and factory-built guitars, especially ours! Especially when I see what goes into what we deliver and how hard it is to accomplish, even for really smart and dedicated people. Then, when I see that people are literally hurting for a guitar and how we managed to increase our production by nearly 80,000 guitars in one very difficult year, it reinforces what I love about factories. When you take into account the depletion of stock in stores around the world and then you add to it the guitars we made and delivered over the past two years, hundreds of thousands of guitar players, from beginners to experienced musicians, were served.

People often ask me or Kurt, “Could you have imagined way back then that Taylor would become this?” At this point, I have to say no, I could not have imagined this.  

BobSpeak

Investing in the Inevitable

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Adapting to change is one of the most important skills we can master, both in business and in life.

Well, here I am, a little farther from the front of the Wood&Steel cover than before. As my dear friend Jesus Jurado, who lives in Tijuana and drives his Land Cruiser exploring and camping with me in Baja, and who retired a couple years ago from Taylor Guitars, says, “We gotta pull over and let the young ones pass.” And I’m happy to do it. Andy Powers is in the passing lane, and I’m pulling over to let him go around. You’ll be hearing what he thinks not only as our Chief Guitar Designer, but as President and CEO.

In this issue, our cover story talks about pearly inlays. You know, I’ve said over the years that my guitar-building career is being lived during a big transition period when it comes to natural materials. Things are now changing from what they were forever before to what they will be for a long time to come. Living through the change is more difficult than living before or after the change. But I always say, “Invest in the inevitable.” There’s no point denying what’s inevitable.

There will certainly be less old-growth wood available to make guitars, perhaps less abalone too, and fewer chemicals that work well but are dangerous. One thing to note is that the future of mother-of-pearl is more promising than abalone since a lot of oysters are basically farmed and grow large as they’re carefully tended in pearl-producing beds. On the other hand, the abalone traditionally used for shell is collected in the wild for its meat; the shell is a byproduct used for inlay. These are mature abalone with fully calcified outer shells. The meat from farmed abalone matures far sooner than the outer shell calcifies, so those shells are not useful for inlay. The good news is that scientists are starting to take farm-raised abalone and outplant them, carefully placing juveniles into natural environments, where they can grow to maturity and hopefully help the species recover.

We’ll continue to make great guitars, even if our materials change slightly.

Bob Taylor

Fortunately, we have many ways to decorate guitars, and we love doing that, and you seem to love owning them. One day, you’ll also love guitars with four-piece spruce tops, which you may not even notice because we’ll do a good job with them, but they’re coming our way. As I write this, changes are happening where spruce grows in Western Canada and the U.S. People are finally coming to terms with the fact that you can’t cut all the available old-growth wood. Some, yes. All, no. This is actually a step forward from the days when mankind stopped cutting big trees only after the last one was cut. Now I see them hitting the brakes before it’s too late, and I say “bravo” to that. We can adjust. We’ll go with it. You’ll go with it. Like my friend Eric Warner of Pacific Rim Tonewoods likes to say, “Adapt, migrate or die.” He’s right, and we’ll adapt and continue to make great guitars, even if our materials change slightly.

I’m very involved with Scott Paul in all our environmental programs. And I’m happy to say they keep growing. Here’s a tip: If you want a guy to help you get more and more involved in developing projects like these, just hire a former Greenpeace hippie and then let them work. All I have to do is say, “You know, I’ve been thinking…” and Scott’s off and running. He’s on it! It’s his nature and profession. I hope you enjoy his updates this issue.

Finally, I’d like to wish a sincere happy 20th anniversary to my dear friends, suppliers, colleagues and partners at Madinter. As you may know, together we co-own the Crelicam sawmill in Cameroon. We’ve worked together very closely for the past ten years (our tenth anniversary is November, 2021). If you live in the U.S., you may not know about Madinter, but go to Madinter.com and check them out. They serve guitar makers across all of Europe, and especially Spain. You can’t believe how many guitar builders there are in Spain. It’s the best! I mean, everyone there knows a guitar builder, which isn’t the case here in the States. You should visit sometime. Vidal, Luisa, Jorge, it’s a pleasure for me to have had all these years working together with you. Happy Anniversary!

Bob Taylor seated on stack of mahogany wood

BobSpeak

Making Things That Last

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Bob ponders the duality of things that endure, contrasting our plastic problem with the company’s transition to employee ownership.

When I was a kid, we rode our bikes around town and drank from a canteen we took along if we thought ahead. We usually weren’t that smart, so we’d stop and drink from someone’s garden hose or a fountain at a grocery store or park. A plastic bottle filled with store-bought water wasn’t even an idea yet, let alone a desire. If we had fifteen cents, we could buy a Coke, drink it there, and get four cents back for the glass bottle. When my kids were kids, the glass bottle was phased out and replaced by cans and plastic bottles.

For each of the last 10 years, I’ve spent up to 100 days per year in Cameroon helping to get our co-owned ebony mill off the ground. When it rains, it often comes down in torrents, swelling the rivers and flooding the low points in the city of 3 million people. By the next day, the water is gone, but the plastic bottles that were washed to the low points remain and are a sight to behold. Literally mountains of plastic, representing a fraction of that which actually exists. No canteens or garden hoses exist in those mountains of trash. One cannot drive through it or around it and not feel the pain of what’s happening. This had a powerful effect on me, causing me to curtail my drinking of water from plastic bottles by probably 99 percent. It’s a problem, but where we live in developed countries, it’s collected for us and put where we cannot see it, helping us think that it’s not a problem. But it is.  

In this issue, Jim Kirlin writes about the mountain of stretch wrap we’re collecting here at Taylor Guitars, placed right where it’s a terrible inconvenience and cannot be missed by anyone working here or driving by. We just have to confront it and think of something, even if it starts by being embarrassed or hating that pile of the most durable product man has ever invented. It just doesn’t go away. It doesn’t degrade. I hope the article lends you pause as you think about what we each contribute to the degradation of our planet for the sake of minute-by-minute convenience. I’ll admit I like what plastic does when I use it; I just don’t like what it does when I’m done using it. And one more thing, don’t believe it’s all recycled, or even most of it, because just a fraction of it is.  

Now to some better news. I’d like to mention that Taylor Guitars is now 100-percent employee owned. I’m thrilled about this. You can read about it in this issue, plus watch some good video commentary about it. As I write today, I’m no longer a shareholder of Taylor Guitars. I am an employee, thankfully. I’ve heard from some friends that it’s a pretty good place to work, so I hope I can have a long run here. As a matter of fact, employee ownership has given me a renewed sense of purpose, similar to that feeling my grandkids give me. I can work for the benefit of our employee-owners in a different and more tangible way now. I feel very good about our future and the hands the company will be in. With our new ownership, I’m hoping that Taylor Guitars might be as durable as plastic without being a problem to the earth and its people. Sustainable, if you will. I’d like to offer a heartfelt thank-you to all the employees, dealers, suppliers and players who helped bring Taylor to this point. I promise you there’s no place I’d rather be, helping it all to thrive.  

BobSpeak

Better Days Ahead

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Bob reflects with bittersweet emotions on an unprecedented year.

Experiencing the upheaval of the last year has taken me and all of us on a journey the likes of which I’ve never experienced in my life. Collectively, it felt as if we were shaken to the core last year — in different ways in different parts of the world. Health, equality, fair opportunity, governmental leadership, populations’ willingness to follow, and many more ideas and conditions have been tested, evaluated, re-evaluated and discussed like no other time I can remember. This was global.

With every experience I’ve had in the past, I’ve always been able to count on people getting together to work, to put forth effort to get ourselves out of the mess. This time, however, the option of solving things by coming together physically was hampered, and in some cases, it evaporated.  

As we look into the new year, we can see we have a way to go in order to recover from the pandemic. But I’m looking forward to things getting better for all of us, and I miss all the people I’m used to seeing, both here in San Diego and around the world!  

One thing that became clear once again is that music helps people feel better. Historical data shows that during hard economic times, musical instruments have always done fairly well as a business sector because when people are forced to cut back, they seem to find that playing music helps their spirits. Never has this played out as obviously as the year 2020 for us here at Taylor. People bought guitars in numbers I’ve never experienced. I’ll admit I had a hard time reconciling the feelings I had as our livelihoods were supported with the knowledge that those of others were not. We’re happy we’re surviving and serving the needs of people, but heartbroken for those who are struggling.  

So when we reflect on our accomplishments from the past year, our feeling of good fortune is bittersweet. It’s not that we feel like the world would be better if we did worse for the sake of suffering, but you should know we all have been touched by friends and family who are not so fortunate. And I trust that on a personal level, all of us who are more fortunate during these times are helping those we know personally who are not.  

One thing that makes us proud is that when we make guitars, it really seems to help people. I love hearing how so many people have found meaning in playing music for themselves, for others, and with others. This is probably the greatest benefit and blessing I’ve known from a lifetime of making guitars. We’ve worked hard this year to make what players want. And just to be clear, when I say “we,” I really mean it. The Taylor team, represented around the world, is who I want to go through difficult times with. And that includes our dealers, and you who buy our guitars. Together, it’s a great team with a good outlook that makes beneficial deposits into the world. I couldn’t ask for anything better.  

In this issue, we’ll go on to talk about guitar models, construction techniques, guitar gear, music, sustainability efforts and other related topics because life goes on, and we want it to go on. I’m just here to say that we feel blessed that we’re okay, and truly hope that you’re okay. For those who are not, know that we’re thinking of you because we all know someone close who has suffered greatly.  

May I suggest to everyone: play music. Try to love each other. Help your neighbor. Make memorable times. You’ll never forget it or regret it.  

BobSpeak

Manufacturing Complex

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Bob shares some real-world perspective on the business ecosystem of manufacturing and creating a new guitar series during a pandemic.

You might want to pour a cup of coffee because this is a little longer than I normally write. I thought I’d use the introduction of the American Dream Series as an opportunity to talk about manufacturing.

For nearly half a century, I’ve been engaged daily in manufacturing, and I have developed some understanding on the topic. I think it’s safe to say that my experience, which started with me and a chisel and led to where Taylor is now, is probably more filled out than if I’d been a manufacturing engineer working for a firm, due to me being the one who has made the lion’s share of manufacturing decisions for us along the way and having to live with the consequences of my decisions. I know what it’s like to work nearly alone and to have well-developed operations in four countries, each with different laws, languages and cultures.

I’m pleased that our company has grown to be successful and kept everyone’s interest in mind, from customers and employees to vendors and shareholders, and to the community around us.

The Different Costs of Manufacturing

All companies sell a product while trying to make a profit through a fair balance between their costs and what they receive upon a sale to their customers. As for the individual employees of any company, we all want to earn the highest salary possible for ourselves. But what happens when we each want to pay the lowest price for the things we buy for ourselves? We all look at competitive products, and often buy products that are made in places where costs are lower, which usually means lower wages. When wages are lower in a different country, the other supportive costs can also be lower since their infrastructure carries lower costs as well, all based on the equilibrium of their local wages and economy.

A good current example of cost difference is our Urban Ash guitars, made from wood we get from here in Southern California. Some people have asked how we take a “free” street tree that was going to become firewood and make guitars that cost as much as guitars made from traditional woods.

Simply put, it’s because the costs are higher, and nearly all those costs go to people living here and doing the work to that tree. Well-paid Americans safely remove the trees 10 feet from a road or house, transport them, saw them, and transport them again, all with American wages, on domestic roads, paying taxes, complying with OSHA standards, earning health benefits, etc. In other words, it’s you or your neighbor who is being paid to convert that tree into guitar wood for us. If we wanted only the cheapest wood, we could find places where it’s the opposite of the attributes I just described, but if you want to do it here, it costs more.

Cross-Border Localism

Buying locally is an idea that interests many of us in our own home towns. But it shouldn’t end with food or independent retail shops. I admit that you can’t always get what you want locally, but we might all want to appreciate the work our neighbors do, and if it’s possible to support them, it comes back around to them supporting us.  

Even so, our guitars are made in two different countries. When I leave my house in the morning, I can turn left and be at our American factory in 20 minutes. Or I can turn right and be at our Mexican factory in 40 minutes. This is somewhat accidental that we are so well-poised to operate in two countries.

I can turn left and be at our American factory in 20 minutes, or turn right and be at our Mexican factory in 40 minutes.

Here at Taylor, we understand cross-border relations from a real-world, workaday perspective, as well as a family and friend perspective. Both factories operate as one company, even with two languages and two cultures. That’s easy from our proximity to each other. We understand and enjoy each other. It’s an advantage for us as makers and you as players that we are able to make guitars across a wide range of prices, and to provide jobs in both the United States and Mexico.

We didn’t move our U.S. production to Mexico. Rather, we started fresh there, making guitars we would not have been able to make here in El Cajon. I am content with the ethics of us expanding across our border. In fact, I’m proud of it. There are over 500 people in Tecate who have good jobs building guitars that otherwise wouldn’t exist.

There is something elusive about making a very good guitar, and many factories around the world haven’t figured out the secret sauce yet. We don’t think of ourselves as having secrets (we tend to share), but we’re dedicated to doing the things needed in order for our guitars to be good enough for players to notice the difference. Having our twin factories allows us to do that rather than outsourcing our lower-priced products to other companies across the ocean.

Adapting to Upheaval

When COVID-19 locked down people and businesses all around the world, we found ourselves with a closed El Cajon factory, then a few weeks later, a closed Tecate factory. After some time, El Cajon began to open slowly while Tecate stayed closed. We asked ourselves, “What would happen if we couldn’t deliver our Tecate-made models into the market?” We knew we wouldn’t have any hope of delivering GS Mini, Baby, Academy, or 100 Series guitars. They’re just not possible to make here. The 200 Series might be possible, but the tools and systems are there; we simply don’t make that guitar here. We make solid-wood guitars here in El Cajon.

So we began to form the idea of what became the American Dream Series, which combines some special building techniques along with using normal tonewoods that we’d set aside over the years due to some cosmetic attributes, odd sizes, or species we don’t currently use in our lineup. We like to say that we’re cooking with what’s in the refrigerator. The event thrown upon us this year caused us to think and act this way.

Tecate seemed far away during those months, but soon we realized we have a legitimate presence there and that we are part of that city, just like we are here. We quickly converted gig bag sewing into mask production to help the local health care workers. We got permission to run that small sewing line during the closure. Eventually the lights started to come back on in the other areas of the factory. We began working with governmental labor, economic and health officials to outfit our factory for an eventual safe re-opening. This was the test of a lifetime of our relationship with the city and country we are in.  

Meanwhile, the American Dream Series was born here in El Cajon. We didn’t want to wait to see what might or might not happen in Mexico. A lot of thought went into this guitar, and we moved quickly to break down mental and physical barriers so we could produce the guitar. People started trickling back to work in El Cajon. We felt optimistic and creative. This guitar was a triumph for us during this time.

Move forward to today and our employees are back to work in both places under such strict social distancing that we have to use 24 hours of every day and all 7 days of the week to get our work done. But we’re healthy and safe, and our livelihoods are restored. Our dealers are thrilled because their livelihoods are better, and customers have rediscovered the joys of homemade music. We’re shipping, dealers are selling, and you’re playing. It’s all good. And these thoughts I wanted to share are meant to relay that stuff comes from places that make stuff, from people who work in those places that make that stuff. Many of those people are you, your neighbor, your family or me. We all work to provide something that is sold, and we all buy things that others make. It’s symbiotic. You support us, we support you. This year has caused many of us to think about things — what’s good, and what’s not. I think we can all agree that music is good.

BobSpeak

A Matter of Trust

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Bob explains why Taylor’s efforts to build trust with our partners matters, especially during challenging times.

You might want to pour a cup of coffee because this is a little longer than I normally write. I thought I’d use the introduction of the American Dream Series as an opportunity to talk about manufacturing.

For nearly half a century, I’ve been engaged daily in manufacturing, and I have developed some understanding on the topic. I think it’s safe to say that my experience, which started with me and a chisel and led to where Taylor is now, is probably more filled out than if I’d been a manufacturing engineer working for a firm, due to me being the one who has made the lion’s share of manufacturing decisions for us along the way and having to live with the consequences of my decisions. I know what it’s like to work nearly alone and to have well-developed operations in four countries, each with different laws, languages and cultures.

I’m pleased that our company has grown to be successful and kept everyone’s interest in mind, from customers and employees to vendors and shareholders, and to the community around us.

Both of these ideas are true, even at the same time. Since late February, I’ve been thinking of another part of this idea that is seldom mentioned. I may know someone who might help, but what does that person know about me? In the case of Taylor Guitars, we may know people who can help during these times, but what do they think about us? Are we coming to them to solve our emergency after we have already established a relationship of trust with them? Or are we asking for something that they feel pressured to grant when they don’t want to grant it, because they feel we haven’t yet earned their trust? 

Navigating our worldwide challenges these last few months has relied heavily on the relationships we’ve formed and what those other people think about us. Our dealers trust us because of the service and quality we’ve given them, and we trust them to represent us well. So we were able to conduct one of the best sales promotions we’ve ever done, called “Taylor Days.” Dealers were astounded. When our sales team presented us with the plan, we trusted them. And so on. 

Navigating our worldwide challenges these last few months has relied heavily on the relationships we’ve formed and what those other people think about us.

When we needed a skeleton crew working here and doing essential tasks at Taylor during the stay-at-home order, we could call the city authorities and seek permission. They trusted us. They granted it. We had never squandered their trust in 45 years, and we’ve participated in city needs and ideas, so they trusted us. 

When we sought to help every Taylor employee to receive their governmental assistance, we went to California’s EDD (Employment Development Department) knowing them well. They trust us because of our positive collaborations in the past. Our Human Resources staff worked so hard to serve our employees by filling out all the forms, paving the way, and shepherding it all through the EDD, and they could call a real contact there, who was happy to help us. Our employees benefited greatly and have great trust in Taylor’s care of them. When we go to a forest in a far-off land and seek help from US Forest Service International Projects, they are eager to lend a hand because we’ve earned their trust and participated in their initiatives in the past. 

I could go on naming dozens more examples, but let these suffice. There could be people who, depending on their point of view, might see some of these examples as favoritism. While we may be the favorite of some of those I mentioned (and we are), it’s because of the trust and respect we’ve worked so hard to build, not because they are our uncle, or because we give them money. 

I say all of this because lately, more than ever, I’ve stopped to think a lot about us all needing each other. This is a sentiment that is offered up often during this time of COVID-19. Sure, we all don’t always agree, but if the relationships we’ve formed are stronger than our disagreements, we can work together toward a good outcome. 

One of my very best friends in life, well, let’s just say he and I don’t agree on many political views, especially right now. But our friendship survives quite well because we don’t rely on that alone as a basis for being friends. We have so many other more important ties between us. 

We at Taylor Guitars need all these people and relationships I’ve named, and hundreds I haven’t. But if there hasn’t been mutual trust built over the years, then we don’t deserve to pick up the phone, or send a text, or seek help from others in the ways that we’ve been able to receive it lately. The help we’ve obtained has been easy, and freely given, because we’ve cultivated strong relationships. 

I’m writing this column today to express my gratitude to the leaders, business partners, vendors, customers, dealers, employees, our executive team, our managers and our other friends for being happy to support us here at Taylor Guitars, as we support them. I’m thrilled that we can ask and hear them say, “Yes, of course!” and that they tell us that we’ve earned that from them. That has been a bright spot for me lately, more than ever before. 

A Toast to Guitar Makers
Bob reflects on why the Taylor “shop” is a special place and salutes his guitar-making peers all around the world.