Staying Stoked In The Post Stoke Economy

Ok, I am a child of the '70s, maybe even of the '80s. Why do I offer that up front piece of nostalgic date bait? Because I have to not only inform the reader, but also remind myself that I come from a different time. Now, that in and of itself has no value. Let's be clear, I am not the kind of guy who walks around yelling, "Old school, baby! Old school". I for sure see the value of new technology and of new trends in all sorts of things, and not just new music or new music gear.
For example, I recently went on a nostalgic whim and jumped out and bought a late '80s mountain bike. I had been looking at bike builds on Pinterest (huh? Pinterest...told ya'. Im woke y'all) and was all sorts of stoked about all this old iron being brought back to life. So, I jumped on Craigslist and scored a beautiful Mountain Klein. Great shape and all original save the saddle and tires. It is nothing short of breath taking. Also, It was only $200! Back in '89 I could not have even dreamed of owning this bike. Once on my bike rack, I was sending pics to all my buddies and trying to organize an "old iron" bike ride. There were absolutely no takers....at all. None! Yet, I was not to be denied my blaze of old glory. I loaded it up and took it to my next little group ride. Let me tell you that the stoke of owning a Mountain Klein faded pretty quickly my friends. After years of riding modern mountain bikes, I had forgotten how basic first generation mountain bikes were. They were basically expensive road groupos bolted onto stiffer frames, with fatter tires added, and flat bars. The ride was brutal. Harsh and unforgiving, this old iron beauty was anything but glorious by comparison.
So old school is just that in many instances. Old. Plain and simple. And as I sat in my truck pondering the nostalgic wash out I had just experienced, I realized that back in the day it was not the old stuff that got us stoked. It was the new emerging technologies of the day that stoked us. Like when Yamaha came out with the Mono-Shock, or when polyurethene wheel firs started appearing on skateboards. That was the trick stuff. That was the stuff that was "Bitchin' man!
The lesson is not lost on this old dude for sure. Because I'm not some old dude. I am the same wide eyed 13 year old that actually shed a small tear of overwhelming joy when he rollded that 1981 Yamaha YZ 125 off the show room floor. Water cooled man!, F'ing water cooled!! Color me stoked.
So then should I not be as stoked when I see that new Kemper modeling amp or when Fox released a new mountain bike shock? Yes! I should be. I should be 13 years old every time I walk into Guitar Center (humor me here) or a bike shop or skate shop or any shop that has stuff I dig.
Let us not get trapped in the glory of the old. While it is totally bitchin' to plug into a real '65 Blackface, it is also, and it some ways more, cool to plug into a Blackstar Silverline and dial up a Blackface tone from the endless menu of digital models. It is seriously cool.
So my friends young and old. Dont be less stoked today as you were yesterday. Keep a foot in what brought us here for sure. Honor the champions of days gone by but also keep an eye on the champions of tomorrow. For these too will become memories. These too will some day be "old school".
Until next time. Stay stoked my friends. Stay stoked.

On Occasion, Guitars Are Not All That....What?

Ok, well I said it. Yes, it is true for me. From time to time, I am bored to death of the the onslaught of guitar photos and guitar stories I get on my social media feeds. How many Olympic white strats can one man look at? In fact, sometimes I think there are only a dozen or so photos of Olympic white strats on the planet. We just keep sending them to one another as if we just snapped it in our living room and posted it seconds ago. Listen, I am not saying that strats are boring or that Olympic white is not a great color for a strat. I am simply saying that even the most dedicated guitar heroes among us need to branch out a little.

I have included recently in my feeds other points of interest. Of course surfing, of course dirt bikes, of course skateboarding but also recently some art stuff, and poetry stuff as well. I'm just trying to add some variety to my interactions with this world. In turn, I have found that it adds dimensions to my guitar playing that I have not previously experienced.

The art I have started looking at is of various subject matter. I have found that it gets me thinking about what colors and what mindscapes might enter my thoughts as I am playing a particular guitar passage. The poetry I have started reading gets me thinking about writing good lyrics again (as if I have previously written a good lyric).

You have heard me make reference to the musical life and the guitar lifestyle. Honestly, I had not really put as much thought into those phrases as I should have until recently. So, this really can be a musical life. Tying a variety of interests and experiences into our music really does make it a life. A lifestyle if you will.

I try to keep these posts short and to the point. Most often it is to just share or a thought or encourage you to contemplate something along with me. Join me then in this if you will. What other interests can we incorporate into our musical thoughts? Can we find a way to make our interest in bread making or cake decorating improve our guitar playing? I think there may be ways to do so. If we give enough thought to it, we can combine so many of our interests into a cohesive personality or lifestyle. Look for a way to make it fit. Most of all, lets pick our head up and look at something other than the fretboard. Its a big world. And a beautiful one.

The Musical Life

It's In the Way that You Use It.

Like many of you, in fact, all of you, my life has gone through many changes. Some good, and some not so much so. What is one to do? It is simply the variety of life and all of it's unexpected twists and turns. I am not trying to trivialize any of our trauma, pain, broken hearts, or busted bank accounts. My intent is to simply say that none of us are immune to the dark clouds that life can bring.

The good news is that those dark clouds are always on the move. Eventually, blue skies return ( provided you enjoy blue skies) and we go through a time when we can enjoy a lighter heart and lighter step.  As I contemplate the tentative and ever-changing nature of our respective walks through life, I am reminded that not everything in life is temporary. At least in our carnal experience.

I have enjoyed many permanent situations in my several decades on this planet. I never seem to get weary of fun Saturday on a dirt bike. The intro line in Crazy Train is something that I can listen to over and over with the same joy every time. The first few string picks on a Gibson Hummingbird are magical. Every time! I cant remember a time when I did not enjoy the smell of fresh ground coffee beans. Sure, you may see these things as simple things and they are. But so what? Is it not "ok" to enjoy the simple things and find pleasure in the "not so complicated"?

People are people. I can say that because I am one. I can accept the fallible nature of humans because I realize that I myself am not perfect. As John Popper sang, "I lie to0 so I don't mind" (Run Around). My tie in here is to say that often times, it is our relationships with other humans that provide most of the shifting sand in our lives. Friends, it is meant to be that way. It is simply the way that it is. When we can turn inward and see that we are all the same, the complicated nature of life can become simple. Or at least a bit more simple. Instead of life being a mysterious, heart breaking walk on ever shifting sand, it can be a nice stroll through a little house of horrors.  A bit scary at times but we know that the boogie man (Mesa Boogie Man?) is right around the corner and we can be prepared and even look forward to the little jolt.

My human relationships often come and go. Music has become the vehicle by which I stay in the game and find new relationships. Some of those relationships are with other humans, some are with instruments. One most often more substantial than the other. I will leave it to you to ponder which is which. When we realize that change is a constant, we might just be a bit more "ok" with it. It might just be that in the grand scheme of the universe, the smell of fresh roasted coffee and the feeling you get when the "love of your life" walks into the room are on the very same shelf. Keep strumming my friends.

Simplify, Simplify, Simplify

     For those of you who know me well, you may think I am loosing it. Rest assured. I am not. For what I am about to say, know that I am sane and balanced. I am aware. "Sell your guitars!"
I know I know. Sin of all sins. Blasphemy! After all this is a guitar blog. For the love of guitars and the guitar lifestyle right? Yes, and in that spirit I continue. For the guitar lifestyle. Stay with me.
    For years I have bought and sold guitars. I have collected and traded and loved and played many many fine six stringed instruments. A few four stringed as well. Recently however, I have been feeling a little flat from the experience. Unfullfilled if you will. Not that the guitars are not fantastic and beautiful and unique. Its just that the stream of instruments coming and going has left me hollow. Hollow in that I never really get the chance to connect with any of them on a significant basis. Much like a relationship with a friend. If it is too swift or too short, you never really know if there was something there. Something that could have been lasting anyway. And so I sold my guitars. Goodbye and farewell my fine fretted friends.
    Not all of them of course. I have a few pieces that I will never let go of. A recent vintage Gibson Southern Jumbo, A Gibson Les Paul Custom Pro (anniversary present from my dearest Rebecca), A 1980 Fender Stratocaster Monacco Yellow, An Eastman T386. Everything else is gone. I think....
There are some closets I have not checked.
     Now that my pack is light, I find myself moving much faster and with a lighter heart and mind. Why would that be? I think it is because I am dedicated to these pieces. I am connected to them. I love them and they love me. We are familiar and we like to see one another. We have stayed together long enough to know what we love about each other. Good and bad. I know my Strat needs new frets and that the neck pickup is too throaty and dull to be of any use, but I LOVE that guitar. I return, it knows I will likely never pull EVH runs or properly use a tremelo but it LOVEs me anyway. It is MY GUITAR. I walk into my studio and it says, "Hello old friend, I have missed you" and I say "Hello my faithful friend, It is good to see you too". Then we are immediately connected and familiar and we enjoy our time together and we look forward to the next encounter. Good and bad. We accept and we commit and we like what we have. Not perfect but real.
     This type of connection simply cant happen for me when I have eight different Strats sitting in my living room. I am too distracted by them all. Too much noise in the room and I cant focus on any one conversation. It becomes impossible to really spend enought time with one guitar to find out if we really are good for one another. Maybe the action on this one guitar is too high or the neck is too wide and so I pick up another one that has a better feel but a tone that is abrasive to me. So I look for another and then another thinking that that one perfect piece is out there. That process consumes all of the time that I should be spending with that one Les Paul and that one Southern Jumbo. I have no time left to fix the problems or work through and get used to their shortcomings. I am simply to distracted by the idea of something. Something that does not exist.   
     So not unlike our relationships in the outside world with friends and relatives and love ones in my opinion. Im not saying that you should dump your friends. What I am saying is that perhaps you should do an occasional inventory and think about where you really want to spend your time. Maybe thin the distractions a little so you can work through that little issue with those one or two people. You know who those people are. They are the ones you think about when they are not around or when you have not heard from them. They ones that still somehow have a voice that you can hear even when you are in a room full of other people. Find them and spend the time to work it out. Trust me. When you have fewer silly choices, the important ones become more fullfilling. You might realize that you might not have to look as far or as hard to find that friendship that you can make the best music in.
    I miss my Road Worn Telecaster on occasion. Also my Les Paul Classic. They were awesome and I wish them well and I hope they find a place to jam and be jammed.  That said, when I go home to my favorite two, I miss nothing. We rock on together and we are happy doing it.
 

In Many Ways, The Best of Friends

Oh a new year again. For so many of us a time of reflection, a time of resolution, a time to look forward in hope, and a time to look back in regret perhaps. A time to pat yourself in congratulations and a time to gather with those that you hope will be a part of your life in the new year and for many to come.  It sounds so profound and thoughtful. And it is really. If you are smart you will ponder your life and that of others, particularly if it is in an effort to make them all better. It is in that spirit that I continue.

I was making my New Year's list the other day. You know that list, "for this I am thankful" in the left hand column, "for this I am heartbroken" on the right. All done to remind myself what a great life I have, taking stock of my blessings as I head into 2016. It has been said that the quickest way to happiness is to be thankful for what you have. "I want everything I have" vs "I have everything I want" sort of thing. And would'nt you know it. Guess what made the list on the left hand side? 

My 2014 Fender Custom Shop 60's Heavy Relic Stratocaster, my Dr Z Carmen Ghia 18watt combo, my Special Run Gibson Les Paul Custom Pro, my Fender Road Worn Telecaster, my Bad Cat 15 watt, my TC Electronics MojoMojo Overdrive pedal all mad the "holy cow Im grateful for that" list. Now here is where you say to yourself that Jonathan is quite shallow indeed. Placing such value on inanimate objects like guitars and such. Well, this is a guitar blog so settle down a bit. Of course I am thankful for my friends and family. Well....most of them anyway, but there is a different observation here. While guitars made the "thank you" list often, the never made the "oh crap" list. Not once! Now that is saying a little bit. In some ways, I have been treated better in 2015 by my guitars than by some of the humans in my life. Those little bolted up pieces of wood, and steel, and plastic have actually done pretty well by me. Some of the humans? Well.......
So I have made a resolution for you all and for myself.

Here it stands. Always present and waiting for me to reach out. Never uttering a negative word about me or those that I love. Never indulging in the drama. Never hanging up on me after a barrage of insults and venom. Never dropping out. Always showing up. Helping me discover my limits and riding along when I surpass them but never demanding that I do so. Only requiring minimal care and always giving back more than it asks for and recieves. The lowly and humble guitar. Trusted and cherished friend. Have a look and one of my most loyal family members. The Gretsch 6120. Now before you go start hating on this concept, let me offer one more word and a promise to you all. In 2016, I promise to be to you, much more like my guitars are to me. Think about it for a moment.

"What Did You Enjoy Doing at Age 10?"

I would like to start this post by pasting in a section from an Entrepreneur Magazine article I recently read. Also a word of caution to my usual visitors. This article is less about guitars and more about what it might mean to be a guitar player. Read on and I think you will understand.

Eric Maisel, a psychotherapist and author, agrees, adding: "The things we loved as a child are probably still the things we love." He suggests drawing up a list of favorite activities and interests from childhood—"and see what still resonates with you today. And then it’s a process of updating those loves. You may have loved something that doesn’t even exist now, or doesn’t make sense in your life now—but you may be able to find a new version of that.

I uncovered the article with a quick google search worded "identifying your passions".
Of course a ton of hits came up as this is a very en vogue topic to be reading on these days.
I would say particularly among aging Gen X kids such as myself. 
Perhaps this stems from a growing feeling that I am running out of time. Time for what? Time to grab deep happiness and be able to look back and feel as though I made good use of a life! John Mayer maybe asked it directly when he sang, "Am I living it right?"
At any rate, I find that I am wanting to spend more and more time in activities that I connect with on a very deep level. Interestingly enough, many of those activities are directly or evolutions of activities I enjoyed as a kid.
So I ask, "What did you enjoy doing at age 10?".
Now, this is not to say that one can make a living playing hopscotch or collecting bugs, but only maybe. If you found yourself playing hopscotch and kickball while the neighbor kid collected bugs then perhaps you should have studied kinesiology and the kid next door should have studied entomology or biology. Now, one can certainly make a living in those areas.
I know this is a road weary topic to some. However, I, at 47 am just now slowing down long enough to really look at this issue and answer some of the the questions honestly.
When I think of the things I enjoyed as a 10 year old, I was certainly, BMX and skateboarding, listening to rock and roll, and trying to mow enough lawns to buy a dirt bike.
Childs play you say? My father certainly thought so, and did make efforts to point me towards ways of making an honest, hard earned living. The thought of being a professional moto-cross racer or surfer would have never been encouraged, let alone supported. Its a shame too because many kids do grow up to make a living surfing and racing and playing rock and roll and skateboarding. So why not me?
Somewhere along the way, between the innocence and wonder of childhood and the knowledge of the responsibility that comes at adolescence, the dream just gets derailed I think. "Ha! He is too young to have any idea as to what kind of job he would want", I remember hearing the adults say. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe the passions of our youth had us right on track. Now I hear myself saying, "He is too old to remember what type of job he really wanted." I think that is more accurate than the former.
Now don't lose me here. I'm not saying that at age 50 we should quit our jobs and go and make a run at pro surfing. Or am I? Silly kid stuff right? Only maybe.....
I remember a good mentor from my post college days once told me, "Jon, you can do almost anything you want to do if you are willing to make all of the necessary sacrifices to get there."
I think that comment has relevance in this conversation because it points back to the concept of pursuing a dream or ambition. At age 50 can I be a professional surfer? Sure can. There are masters class contests all over the place. Now will I make a ton of money? Maybe not. But that was not the question was it? I have grown to hate the money question anyway.
Oh sure, I know we have to pay the bills. I get that. We all should get that by now. However, that dang money question did not play in at age 10. It came along later when we had to choose between dreams and money. So I am trying to factor it out again. Trying to get it (as much as I can) out of the equation and get back to that wild eyed wonder of being a child again. That is to say I am changing the question back to something closer to the questions we asked ourselves as children. Follow me if you will on this. If it were a bright, clear, warm Saturday morning, and you were 10 again, what would you go do? 
The honest answer to that question is helping me find direction again. Perhaps it can help you as well.

The Stoke

Perhaps I have commented on this before. "The Stoke" as it were. That is to say the process of getting stoked. Like, totally stoked! It is not the same as say, getting happy or excited. It is it's very own thing.
The Stoke is not something that happens to you or even an emotion really. It is, in my opinion, a universal energy that will, when conditions are right, make itself a home inside you for a time.
True, it does respond to certain situation better than others. Like a salesman making a sale for instance. I'm not sure the elation he might feel is "The Stoke". I think that might just be short term happiness. However, if he is happy because he finally has enough money to buy that bitchin' '76 Les Paul Deluxe, then that is for sure "The Stoke". Fine line distinctions but I believe them to be true and accurate.
So, when were you last STOKED? My friends, it is an important question to ask yourself. We simply cannot continue our day to day lives with out a measure of Stoke.
I have a Stoke dispenser at my house. A few in fact. The Inverness Green Les Paul Custom Pro that my wife bought me for our 15th anniversary always brings on The Stoke.
Also, I can grab a longboard (skateboard because I live inland now) and find a little bit of Stoke by simply rolling down my driveway.
I suggest you all find that little something that lets you connect with The Stoke. Think about it a little.
Maybe you like to paint or draw, or perhaps you are working on a difficult piano piece. These types of things are corridors to the wonder of being stoked.
I hope that you take some time out this weekend to find a little fun. A little stoke.
Check out the images of folks being stoked. Dig it!

Are you kidding me? Totally Stoked!

Yep, Stoked Again...times two! Sweet rollers and a Fender Jag!

Now I'm Stoked!

Thanks guys for checking in and have a great life until we talk again.

Sometimes Technology is Not an Advance

I will start this short article by conceding very early on that I am simply old. Old school (so old in fact that I refuse to use the spelling "skool") is not something new to me. I have been this way for as long as I can remember. When I was a teenager and New Wave and Punk were all over the place, I was listening to The Beatles. When it came time for me to get my first car, all I wanted was my dad's old jeep (you would have to see it to appreciate exactly how 'old school' that was).

To this day I still want an old '65 Mustang and I still drool over old Triumph Bonnevilles and Trophies. When it comes to my guitars, you guessed it, Fender and Gibson all the way. In fact, the older and more beat up the Strat', the better I like it. I don't know why….wait, I do know why. Because they are better! They are full of character and color and life. Old guitars and gear are experienced. They bring with them a certain feel and, dare I say it, mojo. Yuk, I almost cringe to see myself using that now worn out word. Mojo. Still, it is really the only word that works when it comes to expressing the feel of older instruments. 

In addition, the old stuff just looks cooler. Not pared down and digitalized. Good old fashioned analog stuff. Yeah man! Capacitors, rectifiers, filters, circuits! 

My case in point, look below at the images of Roland's early Space Echo units. Awesome stuff! Big and bulky, with cool knobs and switches to mess with. A 'vu meter'? Are you kidding me? Sweet! 

Then look at the advance of technology and how the current Space Echo unit looks. What? Lame! Tiny, plastic, boring, digital reproduction of what was awesome and unique. 

So march on technology. March on without me in fact. 

Just get me to a good analog yard sale and let me dig through the old treasures.

To Experience the Magic

The South Texas sun beat down on me as I doggy paddled around that massive pool that Summer day many years ago. I'm not exactly sure of the year. Had to be in the early 80's. Likely 1980 or 1981 if I were to guess. I cant even recall why I was at that resort. It was not the sort of place my family would frequent. 
Still, by some turn of the universal fate, I found myself floating around in a pool and an ocean of suntan oil, red faced kids, intoxicated middle aged executives and their brown skinned bikini clad wives. Me trying to look as though I fit in. Me sort of chubby, bathing suit too tight because it was purchased two Summers ago, needing a hair cut, and baked a painful red, as I was not the kind of kid that exposed his torso to sunshine very often. A recall being a spectator of sorts. A spectator to this other world of weekending and excess that I had never before seen or been a part of. Amid that flotsam of silky, self and and sun worship, I was a castaway. Alone on an island of natives.
Then like the roll of an approaching thunderstorm, a sound so immediately intoxicating and familiar, hit my water soaked ears. The band.
The sea of natives, with their plastic martini glasses raised, their heads rocking to and fro like strutting chickens, all headed towards the far end of the pool.
I was drawn as if pulled by a Siren song. From my vantage point I could see the band under a large sun shade. 
I will never forget how the singer's Strat glistened in the Texas sun. Fiesta red! That wonderful Fender color that has transfixed thousands of would be gun slingers. The lead guitar player behind him with another Strat in Lake Placid Blue. Oh how that was a site to see! As I recall, they ripped through Tommy Tutone's Jenny and launched right into Sultans of Swing. As that rich, Stratocaster, switch position #2, tone poured from the edge of the pool, I knew that I had been changed. Well, I probably did not understand it then but as the years progressed, I always recalled that day at the resort when I first heard the magic.
I am a rare bird I guess. My musical journey has never been guided by glitter and lights. For me, the possibility of stardom as a musician is not something that ever occurred to me. Once I saw that little 4 piece band and how they seemed to capture and control that entire pool of holiday heads, I simply wanted to be in a cover band. I wanted to step up to that microphone and perform that magic. However, for me, like musicians that strive for fame, the quest has been no less consuming. 
Now 35 years on (or more really) from the realization that I wanted to be on stage, the excitement and anticipation of experiencing the moments of magic is as strong as ever. I suppose that was a calling of sorts. Somehow the universe put me in the right place and the rightest of times. The opening of chord of Sultans still floors me. After singing Jenny's phone number thousands of times, I still get a chill when those weekenders sing along.
I'm a lucky bird really. I have had a Lake Placid Strat and one in Fiesta red as well. My little bands have channelled the magic many times. Today, as I sit and look at one of the Statocasters that is passing through my life, I cant help but think about that kid bobbing around in that pool that day on Padre Island. He is still there, with his arms over the edge of the pool, trying to look as though he belongs, watching and listening, waiting for his next day under that umbrella.

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.

How a Hero Gets Made....Sometimes

Often times greatness is not something that is easily recognized. In addition, greatness often emerges over time.
Perhaps a person that posesses the raw ingredients for greatness simply becomes a little more great every day.
So when The White Stripes first took the stage at Detroit's Gold Dollar back in the summer of 1997, it is difficult to say whether or not Jack White played with his full present greatness. Jack has certainly become a prolific artist if not one of the most prolific artists of our time. Keeping company with modern day masters like Dave Grohl, Jack simply continues to get better and better with each project.
Perhaps this is how a true guitar hero is made in some cases. I say some cases because other guitar heros seem to have had a certain god status from the very beginning. Say Eddie Van Halen for instance. From the very first record, few people doubted Eddie's ability to drop jaws with his withering solos and vastly creative approach to guitar playing.
Contrast this with Jack White's rise to power. Did we know by White Blood Cells that Jack was destined for guitar greatness? Perhaps, but certainly not in the same instantaneous sense with which we watched Randy Rhodes or the previously mentioned EVH. Be that as it may, Jack White belongs among the guitar greats. Every bit as creative as Eddie, every bit as flashy as Rhodes, as good a song writer as Grohl, as prolific as, dare I say it, Prince, Jack has arrived. Perhaps long ago in some people's opinion but certainly arrived now in everyone's opinion.
While it is not "new" music, go and take a hard listen to Elephant or The White Stripes. Yes, they are from way back in the day by now but they still hold those early markers of greatness that can sometimes only be recognized in retrospect. My personal favorites include Ball and a Biscuit or Girl, You Have no Faith in Medicine.  The former channels Hendrix esque blues vocal style that oozes a powerful rock star virility while the later containes a staccato guitar lick that I have yet to be able to adequately copy.
Jack White is indeed a modern day hero. Whats more and more important is that he is a timeless hero. This work will stand and continue to inspire. Fifty years from now, young guitar prodigy players will be doing magazine interviews and saying the likes of, "Uh well my heros are ummm...well Jack White for sure..I mean right? Who doesnt want to play as good as Jack?"

All Hail the Flying V!

A poster of your rock idol on your old bedroom wall, an old pair of black Chuck Taylors, a faded black concert T, a bandanna you used to tie around your wrist, classic vinyl stacked in a box in the back of your parents closet.
Icons of the rock and roll spirit. The items and images that connect you to the music and passion that is driven by overdriven amps, power chords and the heaviest of back beats. The power and the glory of rock and roll!
Add to this list the image of a Gibson classic. Born before its time with its brothers the Gibson Explorer and the Moderne, all hail the Flying V!
Marvel at its heaviness. Behold it's greatness and rock...ness! No doubt hewn from the very bones of warriors and demons. Not for the faint of heart. Its very shape indicates that it is a rocket ship to another dimension of distortion and fury. Brave are those who would ride. Bold are those that would try to tame it.
Many have tried, few have survived. Check the coolness with which the man holds this monster of music mania.
In all their youth and angst. Hendrix and the mother f#@%ing Flying V!

"In the Midnight Hour.......'"

There is something about the politics of rock and roll I can never seem to reconcile. I understand why we love the music. I understand the raw power and the angst against the backdrop of eternal youth. I get all that. What I never can get past is the rejection of any band that is not staffed with 'teens or twenty somethings.
Oh, here it comes now. I can hear you already. "Nobody want to jam to some old dudes!". Well, I want to challenge that. Why not? Are you there to listen to the music or are you there to sleep with the band?
What does it matter how old the band is?
Now I am only asking this to fans of rock and roll. Other genres seem to be more tolerant of older players. I see new artist in the blues arena that are into their 50s before they break the scene. Even country music seem to be OK with new artists with a little grey in the beard. I wonder if fans of those musical styles are a little more appreciative of the music and less focused on image. Is it possible that in rock music we are too connected to the celebrity and the rock star status?
Music is an art form. It is not unlike painting, sculpting, dance, etc. Now I wonder how many of us look at a painting and say to ourselves, "I wonder what this guy looks like?" Not many I would guess. In other art forms we are very focused on the art and not the artist. Music is a weird variant from that. I am not suggesting that I understand it, I am asking if anybody can explain it. On second thought, I really could care less. I simply think that it is a simple minded stance. Shallow and rooted in idol worship and not in a love of the music.
Speaking of idol, check out the picture below. Billy Idol himself. One of my idols from my teen years. I used to burn the needle through the vinyl listening to his stuff. I even started to try to dress like him. I recall a Halloween party that I attended in full Idol wear. The girls were all over me (sort of). In retrospect it seem silly. Why would anybody get adoration for dressing like a rock and roll artist?
Again, it is the power of celebrity. It can separate the art from the artist and really cheapen the experience of the appreciation. I challenge you this. Go to iTunes and subscribe to the podcast called Roots Rock Radio. This dude collects indie artists and promotes their tracks for free. You never see the bands but you hear some really killer music. Learn to separate the music from the musician and it opens up a whole new experience of listening.
So, in the midnight hour, does Idol still rock? Of course he does. At age 56, at the time of this writing, he still brings a great rock show. Better than some of the new shoe gazer acts full of late teenagers, playing a whole show with their feet stuck in one place. I'm not hating on new acts, I'm simply saying that ageism has no place in art. Rock and roll included. So again, in the midnight hour for any of us, do not count us out. Rock with us.

"You Butchered Some of My Favorite Songs!"

Man o' man. The life of a cover band musician. Sometimes it is as good as it gets and other nights it is sheer misery. I suppose that is not only true for cover band players. Pretty much any performer can relate to the bipolar nature of the viewing or listening audience. With the same set list in the same club, some nights just rock while other dates are a dull as the point on a bowling ball. Even within the same gig, the reviews cover the whole field of feedback.
This past weekend, my band played to brutal long sets at a local Austin club. At one point we had folks interupting songs to get business cards so they could book us at their next occasion. We had the dance floor packed and rockin' and guys were dumping tips on us to have us pose for pictures with their girlfriends. By most standards, a pretty good night. After our last song we high fived each other and thanked the club owner for the gig. Out of nowhere this chick rolls up to the stage to chat us up or so we thought. She was actually sticking around to let us know how bad we suck. "You butchered some of my favorites songs, man!", she yells over the house DJ's pumping party tracks. At first I just laughed, thinking she was just giving us a friendly jab. Then I noticed she was serious. She was maintaing her disgust with our performance and being more than a little vocal about it.
You have to understand, we are a party band. A cover band that relies on good customer relations to keep our scene rolling. The last thing I wanted to do was piss off a good bar owner by giving this chick the "what for". So I just smiled and played along. What else could I do? She finally got to the end of her liqour fueled bombing run on our egos and then asked us if our hair was real. More like surreal I thought. The whole thing. I have had folks yell, "You suck!" from the dark reaches of the back corner of a crap bar, but this was a first for me. Someone staying after the show to inform us of our lack of talent. However, as the experience sank in and I pondered it a little later that night, I realized the key message. She STUCK AROUND! Good or bad, she stayed to the last song and I am sure had a few drinks ( maybe more than a few) in the interim. At the end of the night, that is what pays the bills. We did our job. We kept folks at the bar until closing time. All and all....job well done.
Maybe a strange and delusional way of seeing the situation but that is how I choose to see it. Truly, it's hard to argue with me on this one. Drink in hand, this chick was there at closing.
Currently I am reading through Duff McKagan's great book, "It's So Easy, and Other Lies". My trials at Saturday's show reminded me of G N R's early shows. Duff remembers his brother asking, after peeking around the backstage curtain, where all the fans were. He recalled one show at The Gorilla something or other where they played to about twelve people. Thats friends, family, and bartenders included.
So in light of it all, if the great Guns and Roses can trudge on and keep the vision, who am I to let one chick get  under my skin. We probably had over a hundred or so folks rotating on and off the dance floor most of the night. By that measure, we kicked Axl and Duff's ass! Of course I jest. Not a apples to apples comparison but you get my drift.
Cover band brothers, and garage band buddies listen up. There will be those highs and lows in any musician's career. Just keep plugging in and turning up. You have heard it a million times and I want to say it again. Screw the critics. We just go back and work on our craft and keep working our chops and maybe someday....and....maybe not. But let'ts commit to butcher people's favorite songs with conviction and a smile on our face. It seems to keep them around and coming back for more.

JCH-2012

    Dig it. Duff and Slash. If this does not make you want to go rock...your in the wrong business.

Soul Surfer

In surfing circles, one can have the moniker of "Soul Surfer". This is a dude that surfs strictly for the sake of surfing. Typically this is the dude or chick that lives the lifestyle and is so connected to the act of surfing that it, in turn, connects them to the universe. Connects them in a very deep, spiritual way. You can see it in the way they surf and the look on their face when they are in the water. They are truly in a spiritual moment. These surfers typically do not surf contests or take endorsement deals. They surf the same way many of us eat food or sleep or drink water. They do it to live. I am sure the same thing exists in snowboarding, skiing, etc. I think that it also exists in the music world or at least it should.
When most of us pick up our guitars, we do it because we love it. Yes, truly we are connected to our instrument and to the music community itself when we participate in the act of playing music. But I wonder how many of us that play music for pay, can separate the vocational aspect of our playing from the "I love this freakin' guitar" part of our playing.
I often times go into the rehearsal studio with a very work-a-day attitude. I may have a gig coming up and I know I need to memorize some lyrics or fine tune some guitar lines. So, I go into what would otherwise be a creative space and simply go through the motions of practicing material. It ends up being a very dry, empty experience. I am sure many of you have experienced the very same thing. Is it possible that this type of exercise puts us far away from the very essence of what music is about? That is to say, can it remove much or all of the spiritual component of the act of making music?
For the lucky few that get big contracts or record deals, this might not be an issue. When your label has you covered from a financial standpoint, you might be able to spend all of your playing time in a creative vein. For the rest of us that are having to pound out a paycheck in a cover band or giving guitar lessons, the feeling that our playing is simply a J. O. B becomes very palpable. Maybe there is no way to get around this though. I just think that it is interesting to consider how an artistic endeavor can grow to be so far from removed from the creative process if given enough time and the right (or wrong) circumstances. What makes it even more interesting is the thought that the addition of money or pay is often times the circumstance that kills the whole thing.
I was asked to be a judge at a local Guitar Center's King of the Blues contest. I was honored and agreed to do it. When I arrived, I almost immediately regretted my decision. There where several guitarists getting set to show their chops and there I stood, maybe half the player those guys are, getting ready to judge their ability. Now clearly all of these players had spiritual moments of their own. They spent time in rehearsal learning the backing tracks, but then added their own lead phrases in. The creative process in full tilt right? I am sure that it was. Now they are in a situation where they will have to package up their spiritual moments and make them marketable to the small audience and panel of judges. This is very strange indeed. All of the guys did a great job. Really nice playing from every contestant. Still, I wonder if that is the kind of thing that we need to judge. Maybe we should only listen, accept, and enjoy. Playing for playing sake. A type of soul surfing on guitar you see? Think on this when you have time and get back to me in the comments box.
Go enjoy the perfect waves that are waiting for you in your rehearsal or jam space. Go ride those moments of creativity and momentary genius. Above all else, stay soulful.

Jonathan Hardy

Play for Yourself First

Im a late bloomer. Many lessons that come early for some, come way late for me. At 45, after playing in bands for years, I am finally finding some of the keys to happiness in a cover band world. 

In early projects, to be honest, I was still searching for that rock star status. I suppose I was wishing that some of the fame that was being experienced by the band I was covering would somehow be projected onto me. Silly, but it is a mistake that many young cover bands make. The mistake that fame can be hijacked or celebrity can be imitated. Fame and celebrity are not created by the musicians. These are things that are created by the public and projected onto the artist. So to think that a measure of them comes with learning to cover an artists material is a terrible miscalculation. When the truth comes home to roost and the cover artist is not awarded rock star status, it can frustrate the musician.

It was certainly frustrating for me. To work on material in the hopes that I was going to play the songs all the dancing, young girls wanted to hear and have them making goggly eyes at me all night, only to have them leave with the bartender is a let down. Thats the typical BS rock star mentality. The silly thought that the fans, or bar patrons or whatever are there for me. Totally shallow. I only recently figured that out and it has been a blessing to me to unload that poison.

To realize that the music is thing that matters seems so basic but in reality it is a hard thing to keep hold of. We pay lip service to that truth but all too often we fall into the trap of playing rock god. Once I began to regularly remind myself that I needed to only focus on the music, my job satisfaction went through the roof. Now my band picks the material we like and we focus on making it a high quality interpretation of the original. Not a dead rip off and no time spent on mimicking the original artist. We just play it well and play it for fun. Honestly, the crowds respond so much better. Even if we don't cover every line of the original, our crowds seem to get into it more. I think it is mainly because we are having a better time playing. No false bravado, no "look at me, I rock" kind of crap.

For the first time, I am playing for myself first and loving it. That satisfaction, I believe, has a super positive energy that carries right into the gig and makes it a success. Raw love of the music, and a raw love of performing it. 

I have always loved the picture below. For me, it captures the intensity and real emotion of playing music. Just open up and let it fly. Thats where I am today. Thanks for being patient.

Delta Lab DD1 Digital Delay

Just a quick entry to post my impression of this budget pedal.
I recently was given a gift certificate to Guitar Center from a band that I did a freebie sound mix for. Nice gesture from some nice guys that put $25 in my pocket and a good excuse to go dig around at the Guitar Center in Round Rock, Texas. I was wanting to simplify my stage rig my going back to using a few analog/digital stomp boxes. I was thinking I should have a good delay unit because my amplifier does not have a built in reverb feature. I did'nt want to break the bank and because some of our crowds get a little rowdy, I did'nt want to buy an expensive piece that might get damaged.
I had seen the Delta Lab line before but never really investigated them in too much detail. The rep at Guitar Center informed me that the Delta Labs were on sale. That got my attention so I plugged one in and started picking.
I would say that the appearance of the unit is spot on. Great blue color and good graphics. To be short, it looks good on the pedal board. Also, I would say that the construction is sturdy. Feels like it is built solid and can take being on the road.
The delay times are a little limiting. I would say that the max is about 400ms or so. However, it is not really a limiting problem. On the fast side, it offers some good Rock-a-billy tones and on the slow side, it can do a pretty good U2/Edge rip off.
The repeats are certainly adequate. All in all I would say that it is a pretty decent little unit. I have gigged with it twice since buying it and it has done just fine.  If you can pick one up at anything less than $40, you will have a good little unit.

And The Cradle Will Rock

Welcome to the first installment of The Overdrice Chronicles.
Writting you all from the burned up, draught stricken hills of Central Texas.  We are finally getting some relief from the heat as Fall approaches. Its a welcome change.
Into the sea of blog pages I dive. Come enjoy a swim with me.
The Overdrice Chronicles is a new project for me and my outlet for thoughts, reflections, and critiques of music old and new. I will most likely focus on rock but I am also likely to touch on pop, alternative, and a little bit of old school country.
Now, I cut my teeth on Van Halen, Billy Idol, Gen X, Scorpions, Tom Petty, and a brief love affair with The Beatles and Stones. Later on came the INXS, The Cult, The Cure, Television, and the like. Not to mention Skid Row, Guns and Roses, and Cinderella.
I had a short romance with a girl who introduced me to Alabama, George Jones, George Strait, Lyle Lovett, and Merle Haggard. Its effects have been lasting.
Oh sure, U2 is in there as is Rush and The Clash and a whole slew of other bands. Just like you, my CD collection (I only recently stopped calling them albums) is diverse and I love them all.
As far as this page is concerned, we will run the gamet here as well. The topics are likely to be diverse and at times the writtings will be relatively unfocused and rambling in editorial style. Its the way most of us think, I always wondered why we cant write that way. I will write that way. Its my page.
On with the installment:
     I recelntly started reading "Everybody Wants Some: The Van Halen Saga" by Ian Christe.
First off, let me say that it is an excellent book. While I am not finished reading it yet, Ian Christe starts the book by saying that before he undertook the writting of the book, he learned to play "Eruption". That is freaking awesome and Ian gets immediate props from me. Eruption shaped the way I thought about guitar playing and rock stardom when I was a pre-teen. I didnt believe that it was a guitar playing that when I first heard it.
     Ian's writting style is straight forward and as entertaining as the characters he describes. Within the first ten pages of the book, Van Halen was reborn in my memory and in my imagination. I suddenly wanted to go to California. Not only go to California but to California in 1976. To crash a backyard party where Eddie, and Diamond Dave where building their chops and their army of fans. Would'nt that have been something to see?
     When I was in high school I was a Van Halen fan. A fan to the max. I never saw them in concert. No I did'nt see them at the Texas Jam. Still, I lived to listen to that band.
     I was quite by mistake really. My father bought me a black '79 Mustang as my first car. No, not lucky me. It was the interim, weird body style with a four cylinder engine. The upshot of the thing was that under one of the seats was a box of eight tracks. Of the five eight tracks, three of them were Van Halen tapes. The other two were....hmmm. You get my point.
      It was not my first introduction to Van Halen. Several years earlier, I was at my older brother's new apartment. He said, "check this out" and put on the recently released Van Halen record. "Running with The Devil" droped my jaw, and still does.
     In that black Mustang, for the next year and a half, my crew and I sang Van Halen song after song. Again it was by mistake or fate. The radio was broken so the tape player was the only thing that worked. Also, by the time I got the car in '83, new eight tracks were hard to come by. So Van Halen was it.  I learned every crack of Dave's voice and every pick slide of Eddie's solos. The characeristic pop of Alex's snare hits and loose hi-hat crashes and his double kicks.
     All those memories came back in a flood when I started Christie's book. I rushed right out and found an old copy of Van Halen and cranked it in my truck stereo just like back in the day. That is the hallmark of good writting. It inspires action. Thanks Ian. I look forward to reading the rest of the book. For all of you fans and semi-fans and "Van Haggar Only" types, go buy the book and dig in. You will enjoy it. I know.
     I am currently finishing the book and re-learning to play "Running with the Devil" on guitar. Inspriation my friends, inspiration.