Picture a battle-scarred single-cut electric. The sunburst finish has worn down to the grain. The body is pockmarked with dings and nicks. The hardware has tarnished like the hull of an old tugboat. The fretboard is pitted, peeled and a shade that suggests it has spent the past half-century in the nicotine fog of the Stones’ dressing room.
Tell people this guitar is a ’50s original and they’ll coo admiringly. Reveal the truth – that it shipped from the factory last month – and things get a little more divisive.
