Hey, I’m Scott. Stringjoy is my company — well, it used to be my company, but I’ll get back to that.
When I started playing guitar, you had a few options. Did you want to play a Strat, Tele or Les Paul? A Marshall amp, or a Fender? Boss, DOD or Ibanez pedals? Ernie Ball or D’Addario strings? Sure, some players were playing different stuff, but the vast majority of guitarists were playing the same few pieces of gear.
Then something happened. Small pedal makers, luthiers, and amp companies started popping up, changing the rules, and challenging the status quo. They made better gear. Gear that got even closer to that sound in your head — your tone.
As a player myself, I went bananas. I got into tweaking every aspect of my rig — pedals, tubes, pickups — all in search of a better tone, my tone.
But one day, like a lightbulb, it dawned on me. I had spent years dialing in every aspect of my rig — and I had never even considered my strings.
I won’t say what brand I used to play, but I will tell you that I used to change them every week because they’d lose their tone after three days. And the more I thought about it, they just didn’t feel right either. I didn’t know why, but I knew they could be better. So I set off to make a better set of guitar strings.
I went full geek, tearing into every piece of information I could find about strings — metal composition, winding techniques, tension measurements — and all along the way I noted things that could be done better (hint: everything could be better).
Well now, years of blood sweat and tears later — and with a bit of help from some amazing people who’ve been doing this since before I was born — we’ve made that dream of making better sounding, playing, and feeling guitar strings into a reality.
Today, we have a small shop on the West Coast where we make our strings, on winding machines originally made for Jimmy D’Aquisto (perhaps the most legendary and skillful luthier of the 20th century). Every string we make is wound by real human hands, out of all American nickel, bronze, and steel. When they’re done, they come to our shop in Nashville, where we examine every single string that goes into every single set. Only the best stuff goes out the door.
When we started, I thought we might get a thousand loyal players to play our strings, and we’d be all set. Well, we got that thousand, and they told another thousand, and it kept going from there. Half the time, I’ve felt like I’m just trying to keep up with all of it.
So to my earlier point about how this used to be my company. Well, technically, it still is. But it doesn’t really feel like it. It’s our company, and its sole purpose is to make your guitar sound and play a little better — or at least, a little more like you.
If there’s ever anything I can help with, I’m only an email away. Write me a note anytime: firstname.lastname@example.org