The Birth of Loud

Music journalist Ian Port traces the development and evolution of the electric guitar primarily through the stories of two of its pioneering figures. Leo Fender was a self-taught radio repairman with a love of tinkering. Les Paul was an innovative musician looking for a way to make himself known. As contemporaries, uneasy friends, and occasional rivals, they kicked off a competition that revolutionized the mid-20th-century music industry.

Contrary to what the title suggests, this book is not really about a rivalry. Yes, Fender and Paul were opposites: the former was a reserved perfectionist, the latter a gregarious showman. And yes, the products for which they are best known – the Fender Stratocaster (and Telecaster before it) and Gibson Les Paul took turns jockeying for popularity. But those expecting juicy tales of vendettas and sabotage might be disappointed to learn that Fender and Paul shared quite a bit in common. Both were initially mocked by instrument makers when they suggested solid body electric guitars, and both were also renowned inventors. Fender may fit the mold more closely, but Paul practically invented multitracking (which he called “sound on sound”).

While The Birth of Loud offers some insights into what propelled both men toward their achievements, it also tracks the lineage of artists that their inventions made possible. Muddy Waters’ electric blues found a following in England after his popularity faded in the U.S., and the blues-revering English youth of the early 1960s grew into some of rock’s biggest names by the end of the decade. Perhaps no moment showcases the transient nature of acclaim more than an unknown Jimi Hendrix being given a chance to jam with Cream and upstaging Eric Clapton (then in his “Clapton is God” heyday).

These historical narratives are fascinating, and the book’s even pace can help sustain interest even among non-guitar players. However, Port’s descriptions of musicianship are often given to hyperbole, which cheapens them. Some may also take issue with Port’s chosen emphases: Fender and Paul and Clapton but only sparing mentions of Doc Kaufman, Paul Bigsby, and Jimmy Page. Still, distilling years worth of material into a coherent story is a challenge, and on the whole, Port acquits himself soundly (pun somewhat intended).