Making Guitars The Wrong Way (Still Works)

Hi—I'm the Midwestern guy who likes to make stuff out of wood and somehow convinced a nationally touring rock band that I should build them guitars. In case you missed the chaos (I did a whole video about it), this is the story of how I built three custom instruments in under four weeks for Sleeping with Sirens, nearly lost my mind doing it, and somehow walked away with friends and guitars they actually liked.

Beginning: How a single Instagram comment turned into a deadline

It all started like a modern-day fairy tale: I posted a guitar picture online, Justin Hills (Sleeping with Sirens' bass player) left a comment, I offered to make them guitars for free because that’s my prayerful ritual, and suddenly I had less than four weeks to cut, mill, shape, fret, and finish three fully playable instruments.

So I did what any rational person would do: I gathered the best wood in my shop (and a few donated monster burls), bought zebrawood and figured maple, and started the most compressed luthier marathon of my life—backed by a Shapeoko 5 Pro CNC that did a lot of the heavy lifting and a buddy named Sean who has been my partner in various levels of chaos since sixth grade.

Problem: Exotic wood, ambitious designs, and a shrinking calendar

I wanted these guitars to look fancy. I wanted uninterrupted mahogany bodies, stunning burl book-matches for tops, thin black veneer lines, chamfered edges, and a custom zebrawood back for the bass. Ambition: full throttle. Time: not so much.

• Single-piece African mahogany bodies (yes, beautiful, yes, slightly unstable).
• Clar walnut burl tops from Blacktail Studio (insanely figured—worth the hours it took to flatten).
• Black veneer separators because I like clean, thin lines and I will die on this hill.
• A custom zebrawood back with padauk and figured maple strips for Justin’s bass—because he was cool about everything and deserved a step-up.

Design-wise I prefer heavy chamfers to reveal the layered woods, and I added rear cutaways for palm relief. Smart, functional, and classy. The problem? Every step had to be done three times, and I was already running on fumes. Also, I made a lot of mistakes—some recoverable, some not.

Climax: Things that went catastrophically off-script

Here are the moments when the “wrong way” really shined:

1. The finish fiasco: I decided to try a high-gloss 2K acrylic finish for the first time. Bad timing. This turned into a multi-layered disaster.
2. The drop: While I was away on a baby moon (yes, timing is impeccable), Sean dropped one of the guitars during spraying. Not catastrophic, but the spray got gobbled up in imperfections. We didn't have time to refinish, so we scraped, filled with clear CA glue, and wet-sanded to a satin finish. MacGyver-level, but it worked.
3. The necks: I created a headstock that was too thin and drilled wrong-size holes. Not salvageable. Cue panic, rethinking materials, and a last-minute pivot to African mahogany necks with ebony fretboards.
4. Time pressure & distraction: I paused building my son's nursery, worked 16-hour days, forgot to eat, and made my wife rightfully upset—because nothing says “I love you” like ignoring real life for veneer lines.

During one particularly tense afternoon I pulled the necks apart to salvage the truss rods, rebuilt internal reinforcements with carbon fiber rods for the bass neck, and prepared to CNC the band logos into the fretboards—because if you're going to panic, at least do it with style.

Solved: Salvage, innovation, and stubborn craft

Plenty of things saved this project:

• CNC magic: The Shapeoko 5 Pro allowed me to cut precise inlays, truss rod channels, and templates—an all-day luxury in a compressed build.
• Ultra Clear Epoxy: I used epoxy as a grain filler and for inlay fills. It made the grain pop and saved some rough patches. Also—pro tip—tint mica powder into epoxy for colored inlay fills (teal logos, anyone?).
• Drill press & inserts: Stainless steel threaded inserts for mounting necks were a time-consuming setup, but totally worth it for durability and ease of adjustments on tour.
• Fretwork discipline: Keeping fret wire organized, cutting ends for a faux-binding look, and precise installation bought me reliability when tuning and intonation mattered.
• eBonizing: For one neck I used a steel wool + vinegar bath to ebonize the African mahogany, then finished with black stain for a smoky, ghosted logo look that I honestly loved more than I expected.

All the fretboards got a 12" radius because it's a practical middle ground for most players—and because when you have three guitars to finish, compromises become character-building.

Extra details I couldn’t ignore

• EMG pickups and a clean battery box for the active electronics—because this is not a student project; these guitars are meant to tour.
• Graphite paint in electronic cavities to reduce hum—yes, you can DIY shielding and yes, it matters.
• Brass tube side dots and medallions on the headstocks to match the brand logo—because small details tie the whole thing together.

Delivering the guitars and the unforgettable ending

We loaded the guitars up, drove to the venue in St. Louis, and nearly got stopped by tour security who understandably expected instrument exchanges to be handled differently. There was a micro-hiccup with the mic and a little venue chaos, but then we met the band.

"To Justin, Nick, Tony, Kellen, and Maddie, thank you for your years of giving all of yourselves to your music. And thank you for letting this no-name Midwestern woodworker be a part of it."

They were genuinely appreciative, hugged the guitars, and let me know they liked the designs. After over 300 hours of work (Sean and I together), countless mistakes, melted adrenaline, and a lot of espresso, they were in their hands and that made every late night worth it.

Lessons learned (so you can do it smarter than I did)

• Don't try a new finish system on a compressed timeline unless you enjoy creative disasters.
• Use a drill press and threaded inserts—your future self will thank you during a stage setup.
• CNCs aren't cheating. They let you explore inlays and designs that are otherwise impractical at scale.
• Plan neck thickness and hole sizes carefully. Headstock mistakes are usually non-salvageable.
• Keep a pocket of time for accidents. Buildings are not linear; problems compound.

Final thoughts

Would I build three guitars in four weeks again? Probably not. Do I feel wildly proud, humbled, and somehow more caffeinated than humanly possible? Absolutely. The whole thing was messy, emotional, and glorious. Sean and I learned a ton about process, patience, and the limits of our sanity—and Sleeping with Sirens left St. Louis with instruments we built with our own hands.

If you're a woodworker or guitar nerd thinking about doing something similar: do it, but prepare for the chaos. And if you’re a fan of the band, the guitars are now part of their story—and so is this dumb Midwestern woodworker who showed up with three instruments and a lot of anxiety.

Oh—also: if you like detailed templates, CNC files, or a free starter guide to guitar making (and you want to avoid my mistakes), I’ve got resources and templates that will save you time and grief. But if you learn best by almost failing spectacularly, then you’re on your own—and that’s a very respectable way to learn, too.

We left the venue in a rainstorm, exhausted and happy. The guitars survived. The band survived. I survived. And now, whenever I look at those veneer lines and chamfers, I remember the whole ridiculous ride.

We made guitars for Sleeping With Sirens and they turned out INSANE. One of the craziest timelines compared to volume that we've approached for handmade guitars. Check out the video below!