Working Metal Into Music

Please, no heavy metal music jokes. Arndt Anderson has heard them all during the past 20 years.

Truth be known, the gleaming all-metal electric guitars he makes out of magnesium and aluminum weigh less than many traditional wood models.

“Weight is obviously an issue,” says Anderson, 41. “I’m always looking for ways to make them lighter.”

Metal is superior in many ways, Anderson says. It’s obviously stronger than wood and, being more dense, offers more sustain on musical tones.

Some driving and a page of directions are necessary to find the world headquarters of Magnum Guitars. It is in a machine shop behind Anderson’s home in the wilds of Pend Oreille County, a few miles east of tiny Ione, Wash.

(Getting to Anderson’s Web page is far easier: www.magnumguitars.com)

Cougar attacks and going stir crazy are the biggest concerns in this remote neighborhood. This is definitely not the place you’d expect to find computerized milling machines and an A-plus innovator like Anderson.

“It’s pretty bizarre,” he agrees. “Not only is this the sticks, but it’s an economically depressed area.

“I’m one of the few not punching a clock and living paycheck to paycheck.”

Over the years, Anderson’s engineering genius has put him in close contact with more than a few rock stars.

The Shark electronic drum pedals he created in the 1980s were endorsed by Phil Collins and bands such as Yes. The pedals allowed Def Lepard’s drummer, Rick Allen, to continue performing after he lost an arm in an accident.

In 1988, the band sent Anderson a platinum record commemorating the 9 million sales of its album, “Hysteria.”

Anderson calls his metal guitars a “labor of love” that may or may not grow into something profitable.

He laughs. “If all I wanted to do is make money, I sure as hell wouldn’t be doing the guitar thing.”

Next summer, he plans to take eight Magnum guitars to Nashville for the giant National Association of Music Merchants show to see what happens.

The guitars start at $1,999 and can be made in a rainbow of colors. An all-chrome Stratocaster version is on display at Spokane’s Rock City Music, 635 W. Garland.

Anderson’s serious money comes from designing and building sophisticated parts for industry.

Say someone at an automotive company needs a robotic sensor to measure the vacuum pressure of a certain widget as it rolls down the assembly line.

Anderson’s your man.

“I get it done fast. I get it done right. I get it done cheap,” he says. “I’ve never had to go looking for work.”

Not bad for a high school dropout who grew up in Chatsworth, a suburb of Los Angeles. Disinterested in school, he took off in a van with his guitar and lived a carefree life hanging around resort towns like Sun Valley and West Yellowstone.

“I cleaned condos for a living,” he says with a touch of longing. “I was a bum.”

In 1979, friends convinced him to check out the wilderness north of Spokane. Anderson put some money down on a chunk of land near Ione.

Life was never the same. “I went back to California thinking, `How am I going to pay for this?”’ he says.

Fearing he might lose the property, he found a job doing grunt work in a machine shop. He discovered he was a natural.

Anderson eventually found himself graduating to the big leagues, machining precision parts for the space shuttle and patriot missiles. By the time he moved back to Ione in 1989, he was a highly regarded engineer.

“I think I get more of a high succeeding at my business my way,” Anderson says. “I’d like to be known as the guy who can get the wild idea done.”