Fenders, Like People Are Meant to Be a Little Out.

The dichotomy that is Fender.

If you set the action so that there is zero fret buzz and perfect intonation, the guitar sounds like shit. Perfect, but shitty.

To get the bottom thump that a tele or strat is known for you end up with the low E string fretting out at the 19th fret, not the 21st...Fix that and the thump subsides to the point of bland, generic guitar.

The same thing with the twangy upper end. Part of that sound is the melding of dissonance. Like wet tuning a mandolin.(Mandolins have 8 strings tuned in pairs, an octave apart - tune them perfectly and the instrument sounds awful, tune one of the paired strings a bit flat and it'll bring a tear to your eye)

If you set the trem properly, the bridge laying flat against the body, you sacrifice the "either up or down" action that a lifted bridge affords.

It is ironic? Weird?

Fenders are made to be a little bit out. Like the best people. Not perfect, but you love them.

Perhaps this is what affords a Strat with a soul a Les Paul doesn't possess? That a tinker came up with the Telecaster, not a luthier.

Jimi's birthday made me think about his sound. It was never perfect, but it was always the best.

"Any day is a good day for Hendrix."

I've Touched My Soul...It's a Bit Like Jello

I learned my own self worth years ago. Most of us find this early, but we refuse to believe.
Music is part and parcel my life.
And I am pretty damned good at it. It is a question of sheer numbers that keeps me on the periphery. Since I am a student of statistics, I wallow in the numbers far too often.

But it led me to reexamine my "purpose."
I have none...other than sharing. That is the sole reason for my being here.
My love of the shared thought, giggle, or dislike means everything to me. It was my assumptions about other musicians and what they "had" to understand, that demonstrated how different and varied we really are.

So when two or more people can connect on some level, literature, weather, music, woodworking, whatever; it is a touching of the souls. Nothing less.

The soul is not a weather vane nor a moral compass, my conscience has that duty. No, my soul is the shared thought, word or deed.

A friend and I were talking about what does one do when the loss of that precise sense - vision, hearing affects your very soul. Some whither and die when their perceived worth is removed from them.
Others find another way to complete their purpose.

I am here to share. If I lose my sight, I can carry on. If I lose my hearing; the challenge would be greater, but my ability to share would still be intact. I would be whole.

This week is when we in the United States give thanks for what gives us hope and meaning. I guess, for once, I used the time for reflection and reevaluation...as we were meant to do. Only took fifty some odd years to find that truth.

Noodling

Noodling


The epitome of noodling. I am just goofing around while twisting all knobs, trying all switches.
There are two disparate pieces that are spliced around the 1:40 mark.

I had a group of backing pieces queued up, the recorder was running (as it always is) and I was just jamming.
2:45 feedback - that HALO pedal is just amazing - the volume at the amp is set at TWO.
(Had to get that out of the way - I love my HALO)

Starts off with nothing but guitar.
At 0:24 I kick the wah...0:25 HALO is on 'channel one.'
Change pickup selector dwitch.
Another kick to the wah @ 0:35.
1:17 pickup selector change - try chordal noodles.

1:40 HALO is on channel two. Harmonics are oozing out.
I am just flipping the selector switch with impunity, now.
heh - that feedback - bedroom volumes, ladies and gents!
3:10 - I think of this as yodeling.

As a kid, an exercise I loved was singing - not lyrics, but the song. Bert, the bass player in the band would sing a bass line. Charlie the drummer made drumming noises, and I sang a guitar.
It made me think in terms that were both very familiar and yet foreign.

When I took guitar lessons, I had to push the same thing. To think in terms of a melodic line laid over a preset rhythm group.
So now when I hear a backing track I instinctively mentally whistle a solo on top. How closely the sound is to what I hear is where practice and muscle memory come in.

The last piece to the puzzle is being in the zone and paying attention. I tend to mentally wander off...if this is the second, third, fifth take - I find my mind wandering - guess what I sound like? Rote garbage.

Noodling. Not without thinking.

One day...

Stop me - Blue Cuz I Wanna Be

And Still The Tail Wags the Dog

The standard tremolo arm used by Fender/Squier has always been too long. It gets in the way, it is hard to grab and use, but Fenders can bend better than most. So it has always been a source of trouble for me.
David Gilmour, too.

In 2009 when I tried, unsuccessfully to get back into strats I found a firm called OverDrive Custom Guitar Works who made the short Gilmour style arm...
In 2009, OverDrive didn't have the model on the bottom of that picture. They sent the model above it, which of course did not fit my Squier. So to rectify the situation, they fabricated a new line...for me.

That guitar and I did not bond. The neck radius was 7 1/4 inches - far too curved for me. And then it had a rosewood fretboard. This was an issue of the feel, not sound.

But now with my new, white, white, OLYMPIC White strat, I am again drawn to a shorter tremolo arm - one that I could actually use.

With shipping it was $20.20 - very reasonable.

It's Funny When a Dog Chases His Tail...

It's funny when a human does it as well.
My first guitar...real guitar, was a 1971 Stratocaster, delivered into my hands early 1972.

Along the way I discovered Jazz, Fusion, Gibsons et cetera. I sold the Strat.
In 2011 a friend, to whom I will be indebted for forever and a day, turned me onto Telecasters.

I tried to bond with a Strat in late 2009, but made a few bad choices in it.
A Fender is only a Fender when it has a maple neck and fretboard.
It was the 1950s models when what I wanted was a 60s Strat...duh.

I loved the Candy flame top...ah well.
It left me and a Tele entered my life. Things were good. I got another Tele.
But...

Fast forward to last Friday night - Dave Edward was the opening act for Garland Jeffreys.
He changed guitars each song. A Les Paul, a 335-like hollowbody and a Strat.
A friend seated next to me picked up my vibe...I must have been sighing audibly.


In coming to the Emotional Rescue is Lou of Styles Music.

All I can say is Why the Face?

Olympic White...or blinding.
Brushed aluminum pickguard?...in gold?
It's gaudy...

My wife would be here tonight, but she went swimming wearing her jewelry and drowned - Don Rickles

It borders on ugly. It had a ding on the upper horn; the last person trying it out put it back without saying a word. I have said it may times before, aesthetics mean squat.
After all, you are the one to be staring at the guitar, not me, I'll be playing it and won't be able to see much.
It seems all I needed was a fretboard radius that matched my fingers...9 1/2 inches or better. I also like two point saddles.

I didn't like the 7 1/2 inch radius on the Candy model and blamed the guitar.

Changed the strings and adjusted the neck, pickups and saddles.
It is lighter than the Tele - sigh
It sounds like - whatever I imagine, but mostly a Strat - sigh

How can returning to ones roots make him feel as though he has evolved? Oxymoronic, eh?

Sandy and Her Aftermath

As a kid growing up in NJ I remember trees coming down in the fall when the winds and rains began.

In the intervening years, the destruction seems to have ratcheted up a notch or two.
In 1977 I recall a storm that made things incredibly difficult to get around. At the time, I drove a school bus. It was a nightmare. A two hour route became a four hour route.
But we had power, the schools were open, there was no gasoline rationing; in short, life went on.

Maybe it is climate change? Maybe the trees are aging along with the Boomers living beside them? But the difference in damage and effect between today and forty years ago is dramatic and heart wrenching.
And those making it a political football are blind. They did the same thing when the consulate in Libya was attacked.

Okay...what's all this, then?
I have a trip planned for NJ next week and the more I see, the more I wonder what I shall find.

I have noticed fewer people arguing against the notion of climate change. I have also seen the tendency for most people to react to these situations by thinking of others, by helping.
I've also noticed the Governor of NJ to be a character right out of the Sopranos. I may agree with what Mr. Christie said but I also recall we had the President of Princeton serve, once.

My, how things have changed.

On a positive note, I'll get to see Caleb Hawley, again. Truly a delight.
If you are not familiar, I suggest you delve right in. He is a talented lad, Berklee alum, and a whiz. Cherubic looks don't hurt.
Visit Caleb's Website