So it's time to shout out what I already know I'm looking for:
Hell yes. I want the body wood to be dense and heavy for the brightest sound and fastest attack possible. One of my biggest peeves about about Fender bolt-ons in the past has been the lack of sharpness when I'm trying to play some heavy-handed palm muting. To me, Fenders tend to have a sag when I dig the pick into the strings, some of which can be attributed to their bridges (Is there anyone else on this earth who hates those Tele three-saddle bridges the way I do? Staying away from those height adjustment screws is seriously distracting when you're trying to palm mute and haul @$$.), but for this reason also I'm deliberately going to avoid the usual alder and swamp ash altogether. Also, I know that I want the guitar to have a solid color paint job, so it doesn't make sense to spend extra money on some really exotic wood from, I don't know, Hawaii or Madagascar or the Amazonian rainforest, only to have that rich wood grain covered up.
Classical question: "So Nick... If you want so much brightness and attack out of your maple body, why cover it up with a paint job? Wouldn't that kill the kind of resonance you're going for?"
Romantic answer: Because it's cool. Leave me alone.
I've always wanted a guitar with a surf green color. This goes right back to when I was fifteen years old, enjoying my Squier Affinity Stratocaster and wondering about the new possibilities of the world that had just opened up to me. Somehow the Musician's Friend catalog made its regular appearance to my house, and I loved flipping through the pages and pages of guitars. I had no idea what the differences in features or price were, but I felt the passion and the connection with rock and roll... through gazing at photos of surf-inspired Strats and Teles. Weezer, punk, hardcore, and metal would all happen to me in waves across the next several years, but for that first year of guitar, it was all about the surf thing. I never carried it further, but always looked back on it and wondered when I was going to get that dream guitar. I guess now's the time.
Warmoth offers two versions of a solid green color that both look fun:
Surf Green
Seafoam Green
I'm picking the seafoam green because it will have a bolder contrast with the black hardware I intend to put on the guitar. I'll save that stuff for my next post.
Also, notice how the traditional Strat input jack hole is right there on top. (Shouldn't it be called the output jack? Think about it.) It shouldn't be a big deal to anyone else, but for some reason in my mind it's simply vitally important that I stick with the original design here. Perhaps, with as many design liberties as I'm taking with this thing, I should still be able to look at it and properly call it a Strat.
I came across this blog today and loved all of the points offered, except for #6: "Your guitar (and amp) doesn't matter at all". That's utter B.S. Building your chops, practicing, and developing your playing style can and should be matched with your gear choice(s). Start small and work your way up. My USA Jackson performs in a particular way that suits my playing style. The fast and heavy palm muting I love doing so much on that guitar can't be done in the same way with the same results on, say, an Epiphone semi-hollow body. I get Bryan Baker's point that every guitarist should be well-rounded enough to be able to handle any musical situation that comes across, but the truth is, there really is something crucial that happens when you've got an axe in your hands (and amp cranked behind you) that's doing exactly what you want it to do. It takes your focus off of the gear itself, you feel great, your muscle memory kicks in sooner, and you perform better.
To borrow from the synthesizer world, let's leave it to Dr. Robert (Bob) Moog to describe this mystical connection between the head, hands, and the musical instrument. Fast-forward to the section between 11:47 and 15:21: