Ride Em' , Don't Hide Em'

  Vintage motorcycle riders have a saying. They say, "Ride Em, Don't Hide Em". On the face of it, the meaning seems obvious right? Do not buy a nice vintage motorcycle and hide it in your garage and keep the pleasure of the bike to yourself and yourself only. Get that machine out on the road and show the world. Let other riders see the bike and appreciate it with you. This is where vintage guitar owners share a difficulty with vintage motorcycle owners. The aforementioned motto is easy enough to say I suppose, but the real life implementation of it is a bit more difficult.
     It should go without saying that vintage guitars, like vintage motorcycles can sometimes be quite expensive. So dear, in fact, that the thought of a new scratch or a new dent and it's impact on the value of the vintage piece, almost takes all of the joy out of taking the old pony out for a spin. I suppose that one could not blame the owner of a classic piece for protecting his or her investment. Imagine taking your '62 Fiesta Red Fender Stratocaster out to a local dive bar for a show, only to have an "enthusiast" knock that beauty off its stand during your set break. Yikes! I just broke out in a could sweat writing that. Understandable to keep that rarefied guitar at home in a climate controlled environment. That kind of guitar is an investment and it makes sense to protect such a thing. However, I have noticed the, "that guitar is too nice to play out" mentality in new places other than the vintage collector circles.
     A few years ago I began getting interested in the vintage guitar market. I really didn't have the funds to go after pre-CBS Fenders but I did go looking for entry level opportunities. I bought a few   Japanese import Boss pedals (in fact,a long dash CE-2 is still in my collection) and started doing research on which guitars might become collector grade in the years to come. There was a guitar shop in the area that had a nice display of vintage pieces and I began quizzing the owner about emerging trends in the vintage market. One day he called me and said, "Jon, come in and let me show you a guitar that might be of interest to you. Its a real nice Strat." I couldn't wait to get there.
    When I walked in, I suspected I would see a road worn '70s Strat or perhaps an Ed Smith era piece. Those guitars seemed to be in price range at that time. I was surprised to see a brand new guitar on his counter. Him grinning from ear to ear pointing at the case. He said, "You asked me about which guitars might be collectible ten or fifteen years from now. Well, I think this is one." That was in 2004 and what he had was a 50th Anniversary Stratocaster, brand new and straight from the factory. He informed me that he could only get one and he wanted me to have first shot at it. $1200 was a great price for such a nice guitar, collectibles or not, so I took the bite. I followed his advice to, "Shove her under your bed and see what things look like in ten years. They are not making any more of these."
Fair enough. That guitar has spent the last nine years literally under the bed in our guest room. All the case candy in tact and the plastic still on the pickguard. That is until about two weeks ago.
     An old friend, that I had not seen for many years came to visit me. My wife was out of town so we had the run of the place and decided to pull out every guitar I owned and play them. We compared notes on guitars and told war stories about lost guitars and playing in terrible bands. It was great. I have always been proud of that Anniversary piece so I took it out to show him. While I went downstairs to mix us up a couple more cocktails, he plugged it in and started playing! Oh, the horror of it all! I didn't know what to do, but as I contemplated the guitars loss of virginity, I noticed how great the guitar sounded. Fender equipped those pieces with Noisless pickups and S1 switching. Plugged into my old Twin, that guitar chimed like a bell. At that moment, I realized that Bruce Springsteen was right. Baby,  we where "born to run!" When that Stratocaster started to run that night, nothing could have ever run better. It was made to play, not hide under that guest bed.
     Since that night, I have played that Strat at two different gigs. By the way, it sounds great through a Mesa Boogie Studio .22 and sounds even better through a DC-5. I have had more than $1200 worth of enjoyment talking to people about the guitar, as it is a rarely seen piece at live gigs. It is on its way to becoming my "#1".
    I understand needing to protect the posterity of a high grade, collectors guitar. As I said, your minty '62 Sonic Blue over Oly White should not really come out at open mic night at The Palamino.
But being afraid of scratching the back of your 2001 Deluxe Players Stratocaster during "Jessie's Girl" at your next "mitzvah gig" might be a little over board. Please! Get those babies out of the closet and ride 'em and ride 'em hard! We (players and fans) want to see and hear what they've got.




 

I Was Into Them Before Anybody

Welcome back to Overdrive Chronicles. Its been a bit since my last post. No promises about the future but I hope to be checking in with you more often. I pray you all have been in good health and that you are continuing to listen to and enjoy good music.
As always, when you are in the Austin, Texas area, come check out my rockin' cover band Big Wig.
Also check us out at www.bigwigband.com
We are always glad to see you and hear from you.

Today I went for a great bike ride in sunny Round Rock, Texas. My iPod shuffled to some live cuts from one of my favorite all time bands, Duran Duran. It only takes the intro line to Hungry Like the Wolf  to take me right back to my high school days when this band broke the scene. Funny to think about now, but there was a time when Duran Duran was quite unknown. One of my best buddies, Wes actually turned me on to them. One day at school he asked if I had scene the video for Rio. I thought that was the bands name. He said he could not remember the band name but the girl in the video was smokin' hot. Of course, I was glued to the set when I got home, waiting for this girl Rio.
He was right. She was (and still is) smoking hot. But something else grabbed me about that whole Rio experience.  It struck me that I was really on to something new and exciting. I was listening to a band that was not even on our radio stations yet. It's like I had this little secret. Of course in reality, those videos were being played to millions, but still I felt a privledge of sorts. Like I knew something nobody else did.
The next day I drove to Craig's Record Factory in Corpus Christi, Texas. It was THE place to get your records and tapes. I searched the bins for my new favorite band but to no success. Yep, Dylan was there as well as Rick Deringer ( we alphabetized properly back then. Not by first name), but no Duran Duran. I found a floor person who, with much attitude, told me she had never heard of Duran Duran.
Oh, honor of all honors for a music fan! They had never heard of it and would have to special order it for me. What! Im that cool? Yes, I am that cool!!
Enough of my self glorification from the pathetic glory days. What I am saying here is that all bands start somewhere and often come out of nowhere. Not enough of the time though these days. Take shows like The Voice and American Idol. These performers (musicians? well.........) are all over the TV before they cut there first album. Oops, I mean CD. Oops, I mean download. Im not really interested in seeing how somebody makes it until, well....they make it.
The last time this happened for me was Kings of Leon and before that it was Black Keys. Now they are household band names, but they were not always. I remember asking people if they had heard of KOL. It was great fun telling them about the music and that they should go and check them out. I fell more connected to the music. More connected to the art.
There is nothing like the joy of being able to say, "Huh? Oh yeah, Duran Duran. I know them. Of course I do. I was into them before anybody" Jonathan Hardy, circa, 1982 or so?

Check out my boys above. Still look smashing. Still playing and recording. I knew they would make it.