The Story Behind My Hauser Guitar
A personal reflection on a guitar that shaped our music
In the 1990s, when I was searching for a guitar that could truly touch people's hearts, my path led me to Reisbach and to Hermann Hauser. I told him about the warm, mellow sound I had in mind, so different from the bright tone most players wanted. He suggested a cedar top, Indian rosewood for the back and sides, and a strip of bird's-eye maple. I knew little about tonewoods back then, but I knew I was in exactly the right place.
I was allowed to see the top of my future guitar when only the rosette had been inlaid and the body was still missing. Even at this early stage, I could feel that an extraordinary instrument was coming to life.
And I will never forget the evening when Mr. Hauser called me and told me he had varnished the guitar “in the beautiful moonlight” the night before. That moment lives on in the cover of our album with the same name showing my guitar, in a symbolic way.
When I finally picked up the guitar and played the first notes, it felt as if they had been waiting to fly out of the soundhole. The sound overwhelmed me — it didn’t just meet my expectations, it surpassed them completely. Years later, a fan wrote about our song Guapa: “If there is a heaven, this must be its melody.”
I was never a virtuoso, but I could play beautifully. Hauser brushed aside any doubts about my abilities and said: “I don’t build my guitars only to sit in a cabinet as collector’s pieces. I build them to be played. Trust the guitar and take it with you everywhere.”
And that’s exactly what I did. For 25 years she has been at my side, in every recording, every performance, every moment. I never felt the need for another guitar. All our music was created with this instrument, and our fans love its sound.
When we drove away that day and Mr. Hauser stood by the road waving, I said to my wife, “I think he’s waving to the guitar.” And I understood him perfectly. This guitar is my musical home. With her by my side, it always feels as if nothing can go wrong.
Richard Hecks