In the late ’80s, after years of gigging with a ’73 Fender Precision that weighed in at a hefty 11 pounds, David King of Portland, Oregon started considering those advantages seriously enough to create his own headless bass. Today he offers six headless basses and a pair of more recently conceived basses with headstocks. The 4-string I tried is King’s D Bass, one of his more traditional-looking body shapes. More than an example of headless benefits, our D Bass tester demonstrated what a hand-built boutique bass can offer: a distinctive look, attention to craftsmanship details, and a sonic versatility that retains a responsive, individual voice. The D Bass 4-string has a base price of three grand, but our tester had enough extras—like a bookmatched top, catalyzed poly gloss body finish, custom road case, Bartolini preamp, and onboard tuner—to elevate the price to $4,332.
The King Bass is just a smidge longer than its 34" scale length. Even in its burly road case, it’s roughly guitar sized, which could make cajoling carry-on-resistant airline personnel an easier exercise. The neck end tapers out into a volute-like flare, so it feels familiar to the fretting hand in the lower positions. It’s simply lighter, better balanced, and easier to carry than most basses. However, the neck does feel shifted a bit toward the body, enough that I found myself occasionally missing notes by a half-step. Another purported benefit to headlessness is the near elimination of dead spots, those pesky, thudding, low-sustain notes many basses have around the G string’s 5th or 6th fret, which are thought to have to do with the neck’s resonant frequency. Indeed, on the D Bass I heard no dead spots in the typical places.
The King Bass takes normal single-ball-end strings, rather than the double-ball-end type used by some headlesses. String changing requires one of the included allen wrenches; I swapped in a set of DR Fat Beams in a jiff. I never quite got comfortable with the string ends, though; the bass arrived with the excess string ends coiled, and snipping them off left sharp points exposed, a problem you wouldn’t find with normal tuning machines or double-ball-end strings. If you do clip the ends, be sure to retighten the screws above the nut, to account for the compression that happens when a string is cut off.
The King Bass was a beauty. The exotic top’s gorgeous bookmatched grain was filled with rich, natural colors and expertly finished in clear gloss. Initially, the top’s flaring contours made me think of the flared lines of fashionable ’80s jackets—think Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” video—but the overall aesthetic works, especially with the exquisite wood choices and the upper horn’s roguishly playful curve. David King does most of the woodworking by hand, and there was plenty evidence of the love and attention he showered on this instrument, from the flawless wood joinery to the matching walnut knobs. Other distinctive details include the slide-off battery and control-compartment covers and a carved-in thumbrest that runs the length of the body. The thumbrest is a revelation; it allows for lots of comfortable playing positions and encourages trying different hand positions for different tones. Another bonus is the onboard Wittman tuner, which is set for standard 4-string tuning. Toggling the tuner-on switch lowers the signal output, but not enough to keep everyone from hearing you tune. I loved the tuner, but it ought to mute fully.
The bass’s output is pretty hot, even with the volume knob pulled up to bypass the 18-volt preamp. With the EQ engaged, you’ll likely clip many an amp’s input section with the bass or mid knob cranked; I had to find a lower-than-typical sweet spot on most amps’ input gain knobs, though I could have lowered the active output using the trim pot in the control cavity. With the EQ flat and both pickups on full, the King produced forward-sounding fingerstyle flavors and bold slap tones. The neck pickup had a sweet, round sound that didn’t lay it on too thick, and the soloed bridge pickup produced exceptionally intense J-Bass bark, especially with the rear-pickup coil selector in one of the single-coil positions. Solo the bridge pickup with the coils in series and the bass sounds a bit like a StingRay when slapped. Only with the rear coils in series does the bridge pickup balance well with the always-in-series neck pickup’s output; in the single-coil positions the bridge pickup is noticeably quieter.
The EQ is robust and musical, with an especially noteworthy treble knob, which adds a bright sheen when boosted and a passive-like roll-off when cut. I normally shy away from instruments with a zillion switches and options, but I liked how the mid frequency switch brought out different flavors, especially with different pickup combinations. A favorite sound was the big low-end bump achieved through cutting the mids at 250Hz. Every setting sounded remarkably natural to the instrument, and the whole bass seemed to come alive with a resonance and sparkle that you could feel in both hands. Passive operation felt and sounded remarkably similar with the EQ engaged and set flat, though it seemed a little more lively and dynamic. In both modes, the bass had an exceptional responsiveness, with a rich sound full of colorful, complex overtones.
Headlessness may not be your thing, but David King’s D Bass makes a great case for reviving the trend. It’s also a great reminder of the flexibility, craftsmanship, and individuality you can gain from going boutique. And that’s something you could really lose your head over.