The Flying V

It’s the most distinctive, eye-catching, radical guitar design in music history. Yet it’s been played regularly by a surprisingly short list of guitarists. Fewer still are those who’ve used it as their primary axe. It’s the Gibson Flying V guitar. Aerodynamic and ass-kicking, but oddly not abundant.

There’s one particular guitar great who’s easily the most recognizable specialist of the Flying V of all time, even though you might not have realized it. We’ll get to him in a bit. First, a little history of this peculiar-looking instrument. (and by the way, appearance aside, does the “V” actually stand for anything?)

The Gibson guitar company developed and patented the Flying V in 1958 in an attempt to come up with a modernist, almost futuristic design, to answer Fender’s ultra-popular Stratocaster, which had been unveiled in 1954. V sales, however, did not match the excitement of its launch, and by 1959 production was discontinued.

Then, during a run of U.S. shows by The Kinks in 1965, an airline lost the only guitar Dave Davies had brought with him for the tour, forcing him to stop into a small music shop for a replacement. When he was unable to find one on the racks that he liked, the owner pulled a dusty case from storage that contained an original ’50s V. Davies bought it for $60.

Davies’ Flying V became a semi-iconic image of the British Invasion after he made several television appearances with it, and with demand for the rare and elusive Flying V suddenly increased due to its new exposure, Gibson issued a new Flying V model in 1966. Even so, the new version was only marginally more successful than its predecessor, with shipments decreasing each year after its re-introduction, until it, too, was terminated in 1970.

In the intervening time and years to follow, however, a number of guitarists did put the Flying V to good use, the most notable being Jimi Hendrix, for whom Gibson built a custom design with gold-plated hardware and a characteristically psychedelic paint job. The man widely regarded as the greatest guitarist in the history of popular music is easily the most famous, albeit part-time, V player (Jimi was, of course, most prominently associated with the Stratocaster; that was no Flying V that Hendrix set ablaze and conjured spirits from at The Monterey Pop Festival).

So who, in fact, are rock’s great Flying V guitar players? Here’s a short, but still pretty darn comprehensive summary.

*Are you sure about that? Yes, they played it briefly and/or on rare occasions: Jimi Hendrix, Keith Richards, Billy Gibbons, Joe Perry, Leslie West, Tom Petty, Nancy Wilson, and Eddie Van Halen

*The V plays a significant part of their guitar arsenal: Dave Davies, Grace Potter, Lenny Kravitz, Marc Bolan (T. Rex), Michael Schenker (UFO), Rudolph Schenker (Scorpions), John McVie (Doobies), Allen Collins (Skynyrd), Paul Stanley (Kiss), Kirk Hammett and James Hetfield (Metallica), George Hooper of current Heavy Noise Rock heavyweights Rong¹, and Memphis/Wham! blues guitar legend, Lonnie Mack – who almost deserves to be in the final category, but we’re going to leave that solely for…

*The true King of The Flying V guitar: Albert King

Along with B.B. and Freddie, Albert King was one of the celebrated “Three Kings of the Blues Guitar” (though unrelated to both). Looking back, I almost can’t believe one of my all-time favorite guitarists and musical artists has never been properly covered on So Much Great Music (if you’re interested, the other two Kings have appeared here and here). Let’s get into it like this: Did Albert King typically wear a three-piece suit complete with a pocket square on stage? Did he commonly smoke an old-school pipe while playing? And did he record some of the most beloved blues tunes in the history of popular music while performing them on the bitchin’-est series of Flying V guitars pretty much on an exclusive basis? You’re goddamn right he did.

As a left-handed guitarist (like Hendrix), King was attracted to the V’s symmetrical shape, which accommodated his unorthodox style of keeping the guitar strung for a right-handed player and flipping the instrument over (and when turned upside down it would still look the same). King’s extraordinary sound – in 2023 Rolling Stone ranked him 22^nd on their list of the 250 Greatest Guitarists of All Time – did not derive from shredding speed or intricate licks, but from one supreme skill: string bending. His massive hands, together with an unfailing soulful feel, helped him perfect a singular style of bends, powerfully (and still effortlessly) increasing the pitch of a given note, in a technique that, undoubtedly more than any other single player or influence, affected the approach of my favorite guitarist ever, Stevie Ray Vaughan.

And, selfishly, I feel I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention Albert’s key part in one of my own favorite music-related experiences ever, which I’d written about previously in one of the earliest posts on this site:

…Then there was the time my friend Skemmit was blatantly shot down attempting his own power move. Skemmit, Zing and I were on our way to NYC’s Lone Star Café to see an all-time great, the man “born under a bad sign”, Albert King. But we couldn’t find parking, and as we repeatedly circled the block, catching the beginning of the show was soon in jeopardy. Exasperated as we pulled past the venue yet again, Skemmit screeched the car to a halt, jumped out to move a pair of pylons from an empty space which were clearly meant to designate use for the band, and slid his beat-up company car up on the sidewalk and into the spot with aplomb. Just as we excitedly exited with high-fives all around, a bouncer resembling the guy at the Dexter Lake Club in Animal House who said “Do you mind if we dance with your dates?” stepped over and asked us what the hell we thought we were doing. Thinking quickly, and somehow with a straight face, Skemmit confidently replied, “Oh, Albert told us it was cool to park here.” The bouncer stared us down and answered sternly, “Wait here.” Which we did, until a minute later when out of the door appeared the man himself, Mr. Albert King. The bouncer looked at us, looked back to Albert, and asked dubiously, “Albert, you tell these white boys they could park here?” King, about 6’5” and 250 lbs. himself, sized us up, reached calmly up to his mouth to remove his ever-present pipe, and uttered, “Uh uh” as he turned to walk away. We were already dashing back into the car by the time the bouncer hollered, “Get that shit outta here!” Eventually we did find a spot, and from just a few feet away saw one of the greatest bluesmen that ever lived play his famous Flying V guitar. He puffed his pipe, and we drank Lonestar longnecks. No hard feelings…

So, the extraordinary Flying V, in sum. Though a failure when introduced in 1958, it eventually became one of Gibson’s most iconic electric guitars. And, its most proficient practitioner, Albert King, was not only a musical giant (inducted into both the Blues Hall of Fame and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame) but was the biggest stylistic influence on So Much Great Music’s avowed #1 top guitarist, while also being the lynchpin of a classic New York story. Win, win, win. You know what, that “V” in Flying V must have been for Victory.