PQ: “A regular acoustic guitar might be fine for strumming at a backyard bonfire, but if you really want to lean into the whole vintage, boot-stomping, whiskey-drinking vibe, you’re going to need something that looks like it was made from repurposed tractor parts.”
For an instrument that was designed in the 1920s to be louder than a banjo-wielding lunatic in a speakeasy, the resonator guitar has aged surprisingly well. Once the scrappy underdog of the guitar world, it has become a beloved symbol of roots music, folk revivalism, and people who look like they own a suspicious number of leather vests and brew their own beer. But why the sudden resurgence in its popularity? The answer lies in the rise of Americana and the broader movement toward acoustic-based music that doesn’t require three different distortion pedals just to be taken seriously.
Americana music – an enjoyable (if, at times, a little… “self-consciously curated”) blend of folk, blues, country, and a little bit of “my granddaddy used to play this on the front porch” energy – has exploded in popularity over the last couple of decades. Artists like The Avett Brothers, Gillian Welch, and Jason Isbell have helped usher in a new appreciation for music that sounds like it was discovered in a dusty old suitcase under someone’s bed. And let’s not forget Billy Strings, whose lightning-fast picking makes even the most cynical metalhead say, “Okay, yeah, that’s pretty cool.”
With this shift, the resonator guitar has stepped out of the shadow of obscurity and into the limelight (or at least into dimly lit folk festivals and intimate coffeehouse gigs). The instrument’s distinct metallic twang and undeniable rustic charm fit perfectly with the yearning, sepia-toned aesthetic that modern Americana thrives on. A regular acoustic guitar might be fine for strumming at a backyard bonfire, but if you really want to lean into the whole vintage, boot-stomping, whiskey-drinking vibe, you’re going to need something that looks like it was made from repurposed tractor parts.
The revival of the resonator guitar (the subject of this month’s cover story, page 14) also speaks to a larger cultural trend of people yearning for something “real” – something handcrafted, rich with history, and impossible to mass-produce with a few clicks on a laptop. It’s the same reason vinyl records have sent hundreds of thousands of CDs to the dustbin and why people are suddenly very, very into making their own sourdough and learning to knit. In an era where everything is auto-tuned and algorithm-driven, a resonator guitar offers the musical equivalent of a firm handshake and a knowing nod.
These same factors that appeal to a seasoned picker looking to expand his or her sound, a blues enthusiast channeling their inner Son House, or just someone who wants to look effortlessly cool at the next open mic night, should quite possibly apply to you, the MI dealer with a reasonable supply of “normal” acoustic and electric six-strings, a handful of ukes – maybe even some banjos and mandos – in stock.
The resonator guitar is ready to welcome you with its gleaming metal body and unmistakable sound and to get customers in the door. Just be prepared for a lot of people asking, “Hey, is that one of those guitars with the hubcap on it?” Yes. Yes, it is. Want to try it out? That one’s currently on sale…
