Every guitar maker has their own unique story, but few have entered the profession with as distinctive an approach as Reuben Cox, the owner of Old Style Guitar Shop in Los Angeles. Cox isn’t just a shop owner; he’s a builder, a repair technician, and a sound innovator. Whether he’s fine-tuning guitars for renowned artists like Jackson Browne, creating the now-famous rubber bridge for instruments used in Taylor Swift hits, or meticulously setting up an affordable acoustic guitar for a beginner, Cox is constantly in pursuit of a specific sound and invites everyone to join his sonic journey.
From his upbringing in the woodlands of North Carolina to his education at a specialized math and science school, followed by an art degree in New York City and a career in college-level teaching, Cox’s path to becoming a guitar aficionado was far from conventional. He admits that opening a guitar shop was never part of his plan, especially not during a significant economic downturn. Adding to the unconventional nature of his journey, his initial guitar designs were based on templates created by enlarging images on a Kinko’s copy machine.
Inside Old Style Guitar Shop. Photo: Reuben Cox
Inside Reuben Cox’s Old Style Guitar Shop in Los Angeles, showcasing a variety of guitars, reflecting a blend of vintage charm and modern innovation in guitar craftsmanship.
Yet, for those who know Cox, it all harmonizes perfectly. A self-proclaimed music fanatic and guitar enthusiast, Cox recognized early on that his path wasn’t on stage as a musician. Instead, he channeled his passion into crafting instruments as a hobby. Utilizing resources from the art department and the woodworking skills honed while building field cameras, he began his journey into luthiery.
Driven by a deep curiosity about sound, an openness to experimenting with unconventional materials, and a belief in making quality guitars accessible, Cox has become an unexpected icon among both celebrated artists and discerning producers. His unique semi-hollow electric guitars are sought after, and his rubber bridge modification has found its way onto the guitars of musicians like Bob Dylan, Phoebe Bridgers, and countless others. We spoke with Cox in his Los Angeles workshop to delve deeper into his unconventional journey in the music industry and the philosophy behind his “old style guitar” approach.
What was the catalyst that turned you into a luthier specializing in what we might call “old style guitar” techniques?
It truly was a serendipitous path. I was living in New York City, immersed in the art world, teaching at art schools and working as a photographer. Music and guitars were always a significant part of my life, a deep-seated passion.
While working at Cooper Union and Sarah Lawrence College, I had access to incredible resources, particularly the sculpture shop. It was there, purely as a personal project, that I began to learn the intricate process of crafting a specific type of hollowbody electric guitar. Initially, it was a slow and deliberate process, maybe producing just one or two instruments each year. This was my initial foray into what would eventually become my “old style guitar” ethos, a hands-on, almost artisanal approach.
Were you ever involved in playing music professionally, perhaps in bands that might have influenced your perspective on “old style guitar” sounds?
No, never professionally. Like many, I picked up a guitar in my teenage years, but nature quickly intervened and made it clear that musical performance wasn’t my forte. I had the wisdom to accept that early on. However, my love for music, and especially guitars, remained intense. This deep appreciation, rather than performance aspirations, has probably shaped my “old style guitar” vision more profoundly.
What prompted the move to Los Angeles and the decision to establish your business, Old Style Guitar Shop?
My partner at the time was working for a record label, and her job required her to relocate to Los Angeles to establish a West Coast presence. As the accompanying partner, I had to leave behind a well-established life in New York, including teaching positions, darkroom access, sculpture workshops, and all the associated benefits. However, I was also feeling somewhat disillusioned with the academic art world – the bureaucratic aspects, unmotivated students, and internal politics. Amidst the upheaval of the move, I spontaneously decided to open a guitar shop. My rationale was simple: if it failed, I could always try to find a position at an art school in Los Angeles and continue where I had left off.
Before opening Old Style Guitar Shop, did you have any experience working in a retail music environment?
I entered the retail world completely unprepared, and at arguably one of the worst economic periods in recent American history – 2009, 2010, in the aftermath of the financial crisis. It was a leap of faith, driven by naivety and perhaps a touch of recklessness. I set up a woodworking shop in the basement of our Los Angeles home, which is actually where I am right now. After about six months of building up an inventory of guitars and tools, I secured a small retail space in Silver Lake. The business model was intentionally lean and economical: keep overhead costs minimal and immerse myself in the work. This bootstrapped approach was essential in establishing Old Style Guitar Shop’s unique character from the outset.
You were already crafting guitars before you launched the shop. How did you acquire the skills to repair and modify instruments, especially with the “old style guitar” approach you’re known for?
I learned primarily through hands-on experience. I was comfortable with woodworking tools from my art background, but guitar repairs and setups were a different domain. I essentially learned on the job, often nervously watching YouTube tutorials during the first few years. There was always the underlying fear of damaging someone’s cherished instrument while attempting a fret replacement or neck reset.
Inside Old Style Guitar Shop. Photo: Reuben Cox
A vintage Stella guitar, showcasing Reuben Cox’s signature rubber-bridge modification at Old Style Guitar Shop, exemplifying the shop’s unique blend of vintage instruments and innovative modifications.
Proficiency comes with repetition and time. Unlike learning a fixed set of rules, like quadratic equations, guitar repair is a continuous learning curve. Initially, you might complete a repair acceptably. But after years of practice, you refine your techniques and achieve true mastery. The sheer volume of work has been a significant teacher. I estimate I’ve worked on between 12,000 and 14,000 guitars, considering basic setups and more complex repairs. This extensive experience has been crucial in developing the “old style guitar” expertise that Old Style Guitar Shop is known for.
Were your initial guitar designs inspired by a particular “old style guitar” model or era?
Years ago, someone gifted me The Guitar Handbook by Ralph Denyer. It’s an encyclopedic overview of guitars, featuring images of diverse models, including a 1940s Bigsby. I was immediately captivated by the Bigsby’s shape, particularly its Florentine cutaway. The first guitars I built, and many that I still create, draw inspiration from that design. In a rather unconventional “old style” manner, I used that book as my primary resource. I took it to Kinko’s, placed it on the Xerox machine, enlarged the image to my desired size, and used that enlarged copy as my initial template. This DIY, resourceful approach is really at the heart of the “old style guitar” philosophy.
What instilled the confidence in you to transition from a hobbyist builder to making guitar craftsmanship your profession and opening Old Style Guitar Shop?
In the spring of 2009, before relocating to Los Angeles, I had the opportunity to connect with Bryce and Aaron Dessner of The National through my ex-partner. I offered them a few guitars I had recently completed, saying, “Feel free to borrow these.” They took a few. I believe they found them to be decent instruments – perhaps not exceptionally outstanding, but certainly well-made.
These musicians are highly dedicated to recording and incredibly meticulous about sound quality. They ended up using a couple of my guitars on their record. That endorsement was a significant confidence boost, validating my ability and giving me the impetus to launch Old Style Guitar Shop, a venture I essentially conceived out of thin air. Before that moment, owning a guitar store was never a serious ambition. Had that affirmation not occurred, it’s hard to say if I would be where I am today. That moment was pivotal, a crucial vote of confidence that confirmed I could succeed in this field.
Would you say your guitars have a signature model or a distinct design aesthetic that embodies the “old style guitar” concept?
I consider each guitar to be unique, a one-off creation. My aim is to maintain a sense of novelty and interest in every instrument. I might experiment with different pickups – perhaps new, boutique pickups or vintage ones – or utilize whatever interesting wood I can source. Generally, wood from standard lumberyards can be somewhat underwhelming because it’s often from younger trees. It can be less stable and harder to work with. Whenever possible, I prefer to find aged wood or repurpose materials from old furniture or similar sources. In terms of shape, my guitars generally fall within a specific range and are typically hollow-bodies, featuring book-matched tops and backs with bandsaw-cut outlines and a central block. However, I strive for subtle variations in each build rather than mass-producing a single, fixed design. This approach keeps the “old style guitar” tradition alive, focusing on individual craftsmanship and unique character.
Does a particular genre of music or a specific artist influence your design choices and the “old style guitar” aesthetic you cultivate?
I believe one of the most significant influences is the vibrant music scene in Los Angeles. The city is a hub for incredibly talented musicians, and I’ve been fortunate to work with many of them who possess highly refined ears. The feedback I receive is invaluable. Building guitars for someone like Jackson Browne, who is committed to refining every detail until it’s perfect, is an enriching experience. Working with such dedicated artists isn’t demanding; it’s collaborative. They are simply striving for the highest possible quality – pushing the boundaries of what can be achieved.
Whether it’s cooking, painting, or building a guitar, we should all aim to do our best work. If I have an unconventional idea for a pickup or any other component, I have access to a network of musicians who are willing to test it out and provide honest feedback. Los Angeles is full of artists eager for new sounds and innovative ideas that can spark creativity. Exploring different guitars can unlock new sonic territories, potentially inspiring songwriting. That’s the kind of creative interaction that excites me most and shapes the direction of Old Style Guitar Shop.
How did you build credibility and attract musicians, especially those drawn to the “old style guitar” sound, to your shop?
It was primarily through consistent hard work – dedicating 65 hours a week for a decade – and continually improving my skills in basic setups and repairs. In Los Angeles, any new guitar shop naturally attracts musicians out of sheer curiosity. They are always searching for something new or different. Someone once mentioned, “Oh, Jackson Browne goes to your guitar shop.” And I replied, “Jackson Browne goes to all the guitar shops – because he’s always looking for something new, you know?”
And it’s important to emphasize that Old Style Guitar Shop is not just for famous musicians. It’s very much a shop for working musicians, for everyone. I handle a significant number of setups on Fender Squiers – instruments that many high-end shops might overlook. It’s a constant flow of essential services: basic setups and pickup swaps.
Another old guitar modified with a rubber bridge. Photo: Reuben Cox
Another vintage guitar at Old Style Guitar Shop, expertly modified with a rubber bridge, showcasing the shop’s innovative approach to enhancing traditional instruments.
High-end guitar shops often focus on collectible, expensive instruments. While I do occasionally sell a select few high-value guitars, that’s not really my primary focus. The musicians who truly excite me – touring and recording artists, especially younger ones – often have more modest budgets. Customers spending $5,000 or $10,000 on guitars might be collectors. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s far more rewarding for me to see someone take an instrument I’ve built or modified and use it to create music, to record a song. For instance, the artist and producer Mike Viola, whom I’ve known for years, came into my shop, picked up a baritone rubber-bridged guitar I had just finished, and immediately started playing a riff. Subsequently, that riff became the opening track on his next record. These real-world applications of my “old style guitar” approach are incredibly fulfilling.
Your background as a visual artist is quite distinct from luthiery. How does this artistic perspective influence your approach to crafting “old style guitars”?
I often tell people – when they ask, “Oh, I like this guitar, but I wish it was black. Is that superficial?” – my response is always, “Absolutely not! This is show business! Looks matter, you know?” Aesthetics and sound are intrinsically linked. The visual appeal of a guitar can certainly inspire someone to pick it up and play it.
What current projects are you focusing on at Old Style Guitar Shop?
Currently, I’m deeply involved in restoring many older guitars and integrating this rubber-bridge concept that I developed. It’s become a significant part of what I do and the unique sound signature of Old Style Guitar Shop.
Could you elaborate on the idea behind the rubber bridge and why you’ve been installing it on affordable acoustic guitars, transforming them into unique “old style guitars” in their own right?
The rubber bridge is something I adapted – inventing it might be an overstatement, but in Los Angeles, we tend to use that kind of language. [Laughs.] The inspiration came from a recording session where I was photographing Andrew Bird and Blake Mills. Blake was playing a 1950s Harmony banjo that had a muting system. The apparent goal was to capture the banjo sound in a period when pickups for acoustic banjos were not readily available. A banjo is characterized by its sharp attack and minimal sustain. This particular banjo used a combination of wood and rubber in its muting mechanism. Listening to the playback, I was struck by how exciting the sound was. That evening, Blake sent me some photos and videos of the instrument. I quickly put together a prototype – it took me about two hours to create the first rubber bridge guitar. The next day, I dropped it off at Blake’s house. He plugged it in and started playing. The sound was remarkable. I believe there are some videos of that initial reaction on his Instagram page.
The rubber bridge has indeed garnered significant attention from prominent artists, including Taylor Swift, who featured it on her album Folklore. It’s become a signature element of your “old style guitar” innovation.
It’s something I’ve never actively promoted, even to this day. Its popularity has grown purely through word of mouth. And these rubber-bridged guitars have ended up on numerous fantastic recordings. People who acquire them often tell me, “I took it home and immediately wrote four songs that evening!” It’s been a source of immense inspiration for many musicians. For me, in my profession, that’s about as rewarding as it gets.
This article originally appeared in the September/October 2023 issue of Acoustic Guitar magazine.
