One day, we took a trip to the nearest music store. It wasn’t too long before my heart spotted a beautiful red electric guitar in the used section. Much to my delight, the headstock read “Fender.”

Long story short; I went home with the guitar. More than 10 years later, that Fender Mustang is still my main guitar. Sure, I’ve owned dozens of others through the years, but something keeps me coming back to the Mustang.

Maybe it’s the familiar comfort of my hand wrapping around the short-scale maple neck, fingers floating effortlessly over the rosewood fretboard. Maybe it’s the spongy, fat cleans I hear while playing through my 70′s Peavey Rockmaster or the fat, creamy tones that emerge when I push the tubes just enough. Maybe sometimes it’s just possible to make an emotional purchase without ever experiencing a single second of buyer’s remorse.

In an age of spec-sheets and unbiased online reviews, feature comparison tables and 110% price guarantees – I hope that you, too can find your Fender Mustang.