None asked for, none expected, and none given — neither to myself nor anyone else.
Compromise may be unavoidable in life, but if you don’t dodge it at all costs in your music, enjoy the slippery slope to sucktown. Even if you find “suckcess” there, will the money paper over the shame of knowing you’re just another party clown for kids? I don’t think so, no matter how many clueless bedwetters you cram into a stadium or into your oh-so-“edgy” Kmart clothing line.
To me, it’s total commitment or stay home. How do I know when I’m warmed up? When the bloody calluses on my fingertips split open. I just seal 'em back up and keep on playing. (Hey, there’s a reason they call it Crazy Glue, not Well-Adjusted Glue. Trick-of-the-trade tip for you, compliments of the chef.)
Uncompromising is just the ante. I don’t care if you play the triangle in a basement bingo parlor. If you’re not standing up to push the limits, sit down. Forgo the struggle and you loose the soul, the blues. You loose Billie Holiday’s voice, Hendrix’s swirling feedback landscapes, Stevie Ray Vaughn’s eardrum-inverting bends. Hey, dedicated suffering comes with the gig. So while you might think my urge to stuff Justin Bieber in a rusty steamer trunk and kick it down the Grand Canyon is cruel, I’m just hoping to help the kid's music a bit, if possible. He seems like a nice girl.
Me, I’m a natural born attack dog. Tone. Style. Every element of a player’s sonic fingerprint stems from their attack, and on the fretboard I become an aggravated swarm of angel dust-addled Maori warriors wielding broken baseball bats. Unrelenting. Unforgiving. My sound leaves a mark. Every time.
And leaving a mark is really the only distinguishing characteristic human beings possess, yet 99.98% never even try. People are born creative and then those instincts are schooled right out of them. They climb into the mold and let everything unique be sliced away. They conform. Well, the operative syllable there is con. I say don’t fall for it. Fight.
No struggle, no sustain. And whatever gets thrown at me for turning my back on the soul-embalming, inspiration-crippling black hole of the rat race I just absorb and spit back at the bastards with my playing.
No compromises. No quarter.
Standard - adjusts from 38in. – 51in.
Long - adjusts from 48in. – 60in.
All Anthology guitar and bass straps are hand-made with the absolute finest quality full-grain leathers in the world. Our leathers are chosen for their ability to fully distribute the weight of the guitar across the strap, for a more comfortable playing experience on those long gigs.
Our straps are not only great looking; they're also super-comfortable. Between a top layer of rugged full-grain leather, and a bottom layer of ultra-soft full-grain leather, we use a high-density, premium padding, to maximize comfort without sacrificing strength.
Even better, we use only the strongest industrial grade threads, the same threads used to make parachutes and airbags. That's strength you can trust.
To top it off, our leather burnishes and beautifies with use. All of our straps have their natural marks, scrapes and scars, which means they have loads of raw, rugged personality.
If you’re buying as a gift and don’t have access to measure the current strap, or you just can’t wait until you get home to take the measurement, there are several factors to consider:
1. Height and weight of the player
2. Guitar type: electric or acoustic
3. Placement of attachment pegs on the guitar
4. How low or high the player hangs the guitar
To get more detailed info on how to choose the right length, see our strap length guide.
We realize there are a lot of variables here to consider, and if you’re buying one of our guitar straps as gift, you could possibly be freaked out by all the possible combinations. If that’s the case, don’t panic, we’re happy to talk through it with you. Please don’t hesitate giving us a call at 816-744-8984. If we don’t answer our phone, please leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.