
They were just really simple, made lovingly in the factory out there, and made for everyone, not just for guitar gods. Guild represents a time in America when folk was starting to get big in the 50s and 60s, and Guild wasn’t pretentious. It’s the working man’s guitar–it’s a guitar that you find and finds you at the same time. RW: You see a guy playing a Guild and you’re like, yeah, this guy gets it. GG: How do you feel about the Guild community–you’ve mentioned before that it’s sort of like a cult? There’s just a lot that guitar has given me. I walked around all of Europe with it like an idiot. But it goes with the guitar, they don’t like to separate. I have this crappy case it came with, the handle’s breaking off so I have to carry it under my arm. GG: Is it your main touring guitar as well? I think the mystique of the instrument is a lot cooler than these sort of technical, proper guitars. It handles so well, it sits on your lap so nicely, it’s just like aaaaahh. And I’m not like, a big gear guy, you know? I’m not like, look at all my pedals! This guitar is so simple, live or on the record, it’s just perfect. RW: I know exactly what’s gonna happen with that guitar–it always delivers in the studio. GG: You recorded the majority of Primrose Green on this guitar why did you choose your D-35 as your main recording guitar? It looks cool, it ages nicely like a fine wine. RW: I’ve had it for four years now. I’ve definitely put a lot of miles on it, I’ve roughed it up a lot. And you’re like, why has that never happened to me?! Like, why have I never got to a garage sale and found a beautiful guitar? Then finally it happened to me and I went to a pawn shop and was like, a D-35! And he’s asking nothing for it! I was like, alright man, I’ll take this. You know how everyone always has those stories, like, oh, I went to a pawn shop, I found this amazing guitar.


I found mine at a dusty old pawn shop in the southside of Chicago. RW: My friend was really into Guilds for a long time and I was playing his D-35.
