Admittedly, my mind works in strange ways, but I thought this was actually interesting, so I wanted to post my ramblings, not as an attempt to convince anyone that these notions are somehow universal truths, but rather to offer some insight into a fanatical set of traditions and habits that have sent me on a bizarre gear quest for the past several years.
Recently, I posted a audio interview with producer Beau Hill about how Warren DiMartini bought 25 or 30 Marshall's - in search of the 'Holy Grail' - and was unable to find a sonic difference in them. Quite recently, in the same thread, @gball wisely posted his own personal revelation about gear acquisition and the blood lust for tone that advertising - and perhaps, to some extent - our own traditions and brand loyalty - can create, that extract so much time and money from us. Below, I have included his post which was the catalyst for what I am writing this morning:
In our modern age of the Internet, we have connected people and their access to information like never before. We have videos now that demonstrate (and prove) the scientific facts that tone capacitor construction does not change tone, and that cloth wiring does not alter the signal passing through them. We maintain our perception of these things as if they are somehow better, when, in reality, they are just traditions hammered home by years of advertising and discussion among players. This phenomena is capitalized upon by gear vendors and it fuels the multi-million dollar per year (or perhaps more???) guitar and gear acquisition frenzy.
As a kid, growing up in my parent's recording studio, I was exposed to Gibson guitars at an early age. I considered them the "professional's Instrument" and I liked how they sounded. The Les Paul - Mom had a '58', a '79 LPC and an early 70's Recording Model - kind of fascinated me. I remember seeing Rick Derringer playing a black one and that stuck with me. I would later see Frampton with his 'Black Beauty' and Randy Rhoads' with his '74' Les Paul Custom. These videos and images would solidify my own internal desires to find my own 'Holy Grail' Gibson.
When I met Dolores Rhoads at her Burbank home, in March of 2002, I listened very intently to her account of young Randy and - as I recall - he too was exposed to Gibson's at an early age. There are two things that really stand out to me that I took away from that conversation - but never really paid attention too. When Randy acquired his 1974 Les Paul Custom - from a SoCal Guitar Sinner - he almost immediately had the frets replaced with the thin, vintage-style Fenders. Dolores also said that as much as he loved that guitar, he had a love-hate relationship with it. Randy often told her it was heavy and uncomfortable to play for long periods and that he struggled with tuning issues, especially outdoors, despite having numerous - and reputable - SoCal Luthiers perform setups and adjustments on it. Dolores told me that as soon as Randy had money coming in from his work with Ozzy, that he set about to find a better guitar.
For some reason, at the time, this never really registered with me. I think the impact of being inside Randy's childhood home was so surreal, that I remained in a sort of stupor, but as I think back, I can recall the events of that afternoon with amazing clarity because I listened so intently to what Mrs. Rhoad's had to say.
My first guitar was a 1959 Sears Silvertone (Danelectro U1) that Mom and dad gave me along with the 5 watt Silvertone amp.
The guitar had only 18 frets and a single lipstick pickup, which I quickly replaced with a Duncan Quarter Pounder. Looking back, I desperately wanted one of the Les Paul's, but I think Mom was testing my resolve for playing and in some ways, perhaps wanted to show me that I could make do with just about any guitar if I applied myself, and that a Gibson would not make me a better player.
To Be Continued....
Recently, I posted a audio interview with producer Beau Hill about how Warren DiMartini bought 25 or 30 Marshall's - in search of the 'Holy Grail' - and was unable to find a sonic difference in them. Quite recently, in the same thread, @gball wisely posted his own personal revelation about gear acquisition and the blood lust for tone that advertising - and perhaps, to some extent - our own traditions and brand loyalty - can create, that extract so much time and money from us. Below, I have included his post which was the catalyst for what I am writing this morning:
In our modern age of the Internet, we have connected people and their access to information like never before. We have videos now that demonstrate (and prove) the scientific facts that tone capacitor construction does not change tone, and that cloth wiring does not alter the signal passing through them. We maintain our perception of these things as if they are somehow better, when, in reality, they are just traditions hammered home by years of advertising and discussion among players. This phenomena is capitalized upon by gear vendors and it fuels the multi-million dollar per year (or perhaps more???) guitar and gear acquisition frenzy.
As a kid, growing up in my parent's recording studio, I was exposed to Gibson guitars at an early age. I considered them the "professional's Instrument" and I liked how they sounded. The Les Paul - Mom had a '58', a '79 LPC and an early 70's Recording Model - kind of fascinated me. I remember seeing Rick Derringer playing a black one and that stuck with me. I would later see Frampton with his 'Black Beauty' and Randy Rhoads' with his '74' Les Paul Custom. These videos and images would solidify my own internal desires to find my own 'Holy Grail' Gibson.
When I met Dolores Rhoads at her Burbank home, in March of 2002, I listened very intently to her account of young Randy and - as I recall - he too was exposed to Gibson's at an early age. There are two things that really stand out to me that I took away from that conversation - but never really paid attention too. When Randy acquired his 1974 Les Paul Custom - from a SoCal Guitar Sinner - he almost immediately had the frets replaced with the thin, vintage-style Fenders. Dolores also said that as much as he loved that guitar, he had a love-hate relationship with it. Randy often told her it was heavy and uncomfortable to play for long periods and that he struggled with tuning issues, especially outdoors, despite having numerous - and reputable - SoCal Luthiers perform setups and adjustments on it. Dolores told me that as soon as Randy had money coming in from his work with Ozzy, that he set about to find a better guitar.
For some reason, at the time, this never really registered with me. I think the impact of being inside Randy's childhood home was so surreal, that I remained in a sort of stupor, but as I think back, I can recall the events of that afternoon with amazing clarity because I listened so intently to what Mrs. Rhoad's had to say.
My first guitar was a 1959 Sears Silvertone (Danelectro U1) that Mom and dad gave me along with the 5 watt Silvertone amp.
The guitar had only 18 frets and a single lipstick pickup, which I quickly replaced with a Duncan Quarter Pounder. Looking back, I desperately wanted one of the Les Paul's, but I think Mom was testing my resolve for playing and in some ways, perhaps wanted to show me that I could make do with just about any guitar if I applied myself, and that a Gibson would not make me a better player.
To Be Continued....
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