I always marveled at David’s musical ability. He once told me how he tried to learn all of Stanley Clark’s seminal solo album by ear in the 8th grade by going to the music store everyday and playing on a Kramer bass. I was also amazed by David’s ability to hear an instrument or a pickup and tell me what it sounded like when compared to other instruments from the near or distant past, where it excelled or was lacking. He had an instinctive understanding of how it would “sit in the mix.” His ability to listen extended to his many deep friendships. Always a quiet person, David would let an initial bluster in an often one-sided conversation blow over, but then redouble his concentration when you were finally getting around to the meat of your thesis. Our wide-ranging conversations were always punctuated with laughter no matter how dark the subject.

As a luthier, David had a knack for finding extraordinary pieces of wood and melding them into something gorgeous. He loved fine details, frequently becoming so engrossed in his work that the passage of time was lost. He called one morning saying that he’d been up all night sanding the edge of a body. At dawn he realized that he’d removed more than a 1/4" of wood all the way around, but he was finally pleased with the results. When I suggested that he trace the shape and alter his template, he implied that it was only this particular instrument that had needed that quantity of sanding.

David did most of his jointing and surfacing with a hand-held router, and the results rivaled the best that I’ve seen. His glue lines were immaculate, and his finishes were as flat and optically perfect as any that I have seen.

David’s passion and his friendship enveloped and inspired me. For this I’ll be eternally grateful.

— David King