Quick Take
- Narration: Gareth Richards brings a measured, respectful register to the material, his delivery suits a history built from interviews and archival research, though listeners hoping for more theatricality may find it unhurried.
- Themes: The acoustic guitar’s cultural ascent, luthier craft and innovation, music as American folk heritage
- Mood: Thorough and affectionate, for listeners who find the instrument itself fascinating
- Verdict: A substantive history that goes well past biography and into the material culture of an iconic instrument, deeply researched and worth the 15 hours for anyone who loves acoustic guitar.
I listened to most of The Devil Is in It during a week when I was also working through a pile of music biographies, and the contrast was instructive. Most music books are about people. This one is fundamentally about an object, or rather, about the slow transformation of an object and what that transformation tells us about culture, craft, commerce, and the peculiar American hunger for certain kinds of sound. John Stubbings spent years traveling to meet guitar makers, players, collectors, and historians, and the resulting audiobook reads like the oral history it almost is.
The title is a reference to the legendary guitarist’s saying about the mysterious quality that separates a great acoustic guitar from a merely good one, that ineffable thing in the wood and the construction and the playing that cannot be fully quantified. Stubbings takes that mystery seriously, and the book is organized around the question of how that quality emerged, evolved, and came to define an instrument that started in eighteenth-century European parlors and ended up everywhere.
From Classical Europe to the American Flat-Top
The history begins before most readers expect it to, with the European classical guitar tradition and the luthiers who began modifying it in the nineteenth century. This is a book that insists on understanding origins, which is its greatest strength and, for some listeners, its greatest test of patience. The early chapters on guitar construction evolution, the changes to internal bracing, body shape, and string tension that eventually produced the American flat-top, are dense with technical and historical detail that matters enormously to the argument the book is making.
The C.F. Martin story is the book’s spine. One reviewer described the Martin company history as “a true successful immigrant story,” which is accurate: Christian Frederick Martin emigrated from Germany in 1833 and built the foundation of what would become the dominant voice in American acoustic guitar construction. Stubbings renders this with genuine enthusiasm for the entrepreneurial and craft dimensions of the story, and the Martin chapters have the narrative momentum that the more diffuse historical sections sometimes lack.
Where Gibson Gets Short Shrift
One reviewer flagged the book’s partial treatment of Gibson, and it is a fair criticism. A history that traces the acoustic guitar’s cultural significance through the twentieth century and dedicates only passing attention to the Gibson Hummingbird, the J-45, or the J-200 is making a curatorial choice that will frustrate some readers. Stubbings is openly partial to Martin, and while that’s his right as the author, the imbalance is noticeable. Guild guitars receive similarly brief treatment. The book is perhaps more accurately described as a history of the American flat-top with Martin at its center than a comprehensive history of the acoustic guitar writ large.
That said, the artists Stubbings connects to the instrument are well-chosen and span enough of the acoustic guitar’s cultural range to prevent the narrative from feeling purely nostalgic. From Gillian Welch and Tracy Chapman to Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran, the reader is reminded that the instrument has never stopped evolving culturally even as its basic form stabilized. The folk revival, the singer-songwriter movement, the country tradition, the acoustic guitar’s ability to anchor all of these simultaneously is part of what the book is arguing for.
What the Interviews Bring
The decision to build much of the research on direct interviews with makers, players, collectors, and historians gives the book a warmth that pure archival history sometimes lacks. When Stubbings reports on contemporary luthiers and their obsessive pursuit of wood quality, acoustic properties, and tonal ideals, the reader is inside a living craft tradition rather than a museum exhibit. One reviewer said the author took them into the scene “as if it were a movie,” and the interview-driven sections do have that quality, they situate you in specific workshops, with specific people, touching specific instruments.
Gareth Richards’s narration fits this material well. He doesn’t impose dramatic performance on a text that isn’t asking for it, and at fifteen hours the steady, informed delivery is the right choice. The book asks you to listen with the patient attention you might give to a long documentary, and Richards provides the appropriate audio equivalent.
Listen If, Skip If
Listen if you love the acoustic guitar specifically and want to understand how it got from there to here, from obscure parlor instrument to American cultural icon. Listen if you are drawn to histories organized around craft objects rather than celebrities. Skip if you want equal coverage of the full acoustic guitar landscape: this book is substantially a Martin history with context around it. Skip also if you need dramatic pacing, the book rewards sustained, engaged listening more than casual dipping.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is The Devil Is in It about acoustic guitar in general, or does it focus primarily on a particular brand or era?
It covers acoustic guitar history broadly, from eighteenth-century European classical instruments to contemporary makers, but the C.F. Martin company receives disproportionately more attention than other makers. Reviewers note that Gibson receives relatively little coverage. Listeners should expect a Martin-centric history with broader context rather than a fully comprehensive survey.
Do you need to play guitar or know music theory to appreciate this audiobook?
No. The book is written for people who love the instrument and its music regardless of whether they play. Technical construction details appear but are explained accessibly, and the cultural and biographical dimensions of the history are as prominent as the craft dimensions.
How does narrator Gareth Richards handle the technical sections on guitar construction and luthier craft?
Richards maintains a clear, measured delivery throughout, which suits the documentary style of the material. He doesn’t simplify or dramatize the technical sections, but the writing itself makes the subject accessible, and his pacing gives listeners time to absorb information that might otherwise move past quickly.
Is this book substantially the same as the limited-edition 2020 version that sold out, or does the audio release include significant new material?
The synopsis indicates the Audible release includes additional research and subject matter beyond the original 2020 limited-edition physical book. For listeners who encountered the earlier version, the audio release represents an expanded treatment rather than a simple audio conversion of the previous text.
