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The Teye Jazz Cat combines elements such as acid-etched metal plates, mosaic tiles, and wood to create functional guitar art that simultaneously turns heads and seduces eardrums.
If your personal style of artistic enthusiasm veers toward the unique and funky—like a Le Corbusier cowhide lounger or Salvador Dali’s lobster telephone—then a Teye guitar will likely become your favorite jam (as the kids used to say). Teye combines elements such as acid-etched metal plates, mosaic tiles, and wood to create functional guitar art that simultaneously turns heads and seduces eardrums. The tariff for these wonders can make your cheeks flush—they’re expensive machines—but just about every editor who has reviewed a Teye has succumbed enough to their charms to consider a purchase. As the Jazz Cat is the first Teye I’ve evaluated, I wanted to experience precisely what the GP editors love about these mad mash-ups of materials and electronics.
There’s a certain hand-tooled wonkiness about the Jazz Cat that telegraphs its resolutely one-of-a-kind nature (much like the ’70s Tony Zemaitis models that are close cosmetic cousins to the Teye designs). However, “wonky” doesn’t mean the craftsmanship is unsatisfactory or inconsistent. In fact, every Teye we’ve reviewed is quite nicely done. But screwing metal to wood—as well as manufacturing hardware with almost Moorish appointments—can leave some edges brusquely finished. It also seems like the top of the semi-hollow Cat is so thin that I could push my finger right through it. But while I wouldn’t drop a hardcover Stephen King novel on it, the top’s willowy density is actually very tough—the maple cap is 3mm thick and well supported—and it helps produce a loud acoustic zing with good sustain and shimmering midrange clarity. Furthermore, I did some rehearsals, gigs, and sessions with this cool Cat, and it never buckled under