String and head advice

[Michael Hughes]

Hello all, I'm writing for a bit of advice. I'm within a month of taking delivery of my Clifford Essex Weaver banjo, and I'd like a bit of feedback from the community about the strings and heads people like to use.

I understand that much of this is based on preference, so I'll share mine. As a classical guitarist, I have always preferred high tension strings and a balanced sound. I also like rich bass. I've been looking at medium or heavy gauge Nylgut strings or possibly the gut strings developed by Rob MacKillop for Clifford Essex. I love the sound of Rob's banjo on his recording The Early American Parlor Banjo.

What do you think the proper head might be for this banjo, and how much of a factor is the head in the sound of a gut or Nylgut-strung banjo? Would you recommend a calf skin or goat skin head over a plastic head?

Thanks so much for any feedback you might offer!

Michael Hughes

[thereallyniceman]

Thank you Jody. Matron says that there is room for another bed in the ward.

I am sure we can make room for him ;-)

[Steve Harrison]

To overcome this problem, in the UK and I suppose it must have been tried in the US, some of the old time banjoists fitted low wattage electric light bulbs beneath the head, the heat from which kept the head taught when played in hot, humid clubs and theatres. It was an idea borrowed from drummers who did the same thing with their drum kits. I have seen a few old banjos with the electrical fittings still in place. I wouldn't like to guess at how many suffered death by electrocution and it's certainly something I wouldn't like try!

Jody Stecher said:

It is an abrupt change in humidity, not excess that causes the problem.  A muggy summer day.  The head goes slack, so much so that the strings are touching the fingerboard. The head must be tightened. THUNDERSTORM comes out of nowhere. All the humidity leaves the air and is released as rain. Banjo head also looses moisture and then explodes with more noise than distant thunder. I have had this happen from a simple change from moderate humidity to an air conditioned room. The explosion was very startling. 

About "more experience": what I've discovered from 55 years of playing the banjo is If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It.  :-)

Michael Hughes said:

Thanks so much for your thoughts!

@Jody: I live in mid-state Maine, so excessive humidity isn't a problem. 

[Jody Stecher]

When I was about 16 years old my father and I found a Ludwig  gold plated tenor banjo at a yard sale. The banjo had this feature. I bought it for $5. Or was it $2? No, that was the Gatcomb fretless 5 string. Each bulb was encased in a colored sheath of red, blue, yellow, or green and maybe some other colors. When the wire was plugged in the wall, the lights would go on and off in a rapid and perhaps random pattern. But that wasn't all. Because the insulation was frayed there were sparks and the sounds of sizzling and the smells of things burning that should not be.  The lights could be seen through the vellum and through the spaces in the flange. It was like the Fourth of July in a banjo. I never left it plugged in more than 30 seconds.

Steve Harrison said:

To overcome this problem, in the UK and I suppose it must have been tried in the US, some of the old time banjoists fitted low wattage electric light bulbs beneath the head, the heat from which kept the head taught when played in hot, humid clubs and theatres. It was an idea borrowed from drummers who did the same thing with their drum kits. I have seen a few old banjos with the electrical fittings still in place. I wouldn't like to guess at how many suffered death by electrocution and it's certainly something I wouldn't like try!

[Richard William Ineson]

Was that the second or third Viscount? 

Mike Moss said:

Indeed, Richard, and it reminds me of the time I was hunting the baagh with the viscount Mountbatten when, all of a sudden, my head hit a hanging vine and I fell off my hathi. It was a terribly embarrassing situation as no-one seemed to have noticed my fall and, while the man-eating tiger lurked in the brush, my gun wallah was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately I noticed my Riley and Baker all-metal zither banjo had also fallen off but had been kept sound by the Reliance case I stored it in. Surrounded by the rioting invasion of soundless life, the rolling wave of plants, piled up, crested, ready to sweep me out of existence, I took out the banjo and cracked out the first few bars of To The Front. The effect was remarkable, as all animal life in a two-mile radius seemed to spring up and flee at the same time and, once the wild cackling of birds and hooting of the gibbons and macaques subsided, there was not a living soul left. After following the trail for a few miles I eventually happened upon my would-be saviour, an old sadhu who rarely ever left the jungle. Unfortunately, the holy man, being unaccustomed to banjo playing, was still startled and could only mutter "The horror, the horror" when I met him.

[Mike Moss]

The first, Richard. Surely you knew there were no second or third? It was he who taught his grand-nephew, Prince Charles, how to play the banjo. Chaos ensued.