There are a lot of people who form garage bands while in high school, and then put away all that silliness once they graduate and move on to work or higher education. Many continue for a few more years, but give it up in favour of devoting time to work or starting a family. Then, there are the weirdos like Curtis and me who didn't get around to all that normal domestic stuff because we (for whatever reason) had to keep supporting our music habit. We've been at it for a lot of years, without a break.
When you're working in that kind of lengthy time frame, you meet a lot of different instruments.
In that department, Curtis is essentially playing on the same Pearl drum kit he played on when we started working together nearly 17 years ago (adding a wider choice of snares in addition to his trusty Zildjian, a cymbal or two, more precise pedals, and rearranging numerous times. He temporarily went electronic when we recorded "Better the Devil You Know..." in 1999, but not for long). I followed suit for about a decade, keeping to an unremarkable black '87 Fender Stratocaster for virtually all live work and recording. Working in a music store off-and-on for ten years provided me the opportunity to try out quite a variety of guitars, but I found the black strat too versatile, durable and comfortable to replace. From 2001, however, I had the means to widen my search somewhat, with the help of the internet and a decently-paid job. I also had a bit of luck at times. Here, then, is a run-down on some of the more notable specimens that have passed through my collection, or reside there now:
The Good: '93 G&L Legacy. Two-tone sunburst, maple fingerboard, 3-screw neck plate, ash body. Stock Seymour Duncan SSL pick-ups. This is 'George & Leo's' slight update on a Fender Strat (which Leo had developed forty years previously), with a more substantial bridge/saddle assembly and bass/treble adjustment instead of tone knobs for the front two pick-ups. The only change I made was replacing the perloid pick-guard with plain, 1-ply white. This one retired my black strat for good - with a deeper, more organic tone that kept its single-coil brilliance. It's rare that I don't bring this one to gigs.
'02 Gibson SG Special. All black, kinda banged up, and ridiculously lightweight. Probably my most unremarkable-looking guitar, but perhaps my favourite for tone, despite everything being stock. I bought this one through EBay, with modest expectations. I just liked the idea of owning an SG because my first guitar was SG-shaped. I once tried moving the stock SG pick-ups to a Gibson Explorer, to see if the magic came from the pick-ups: nope. Something about that ultra-light piece of wood and chunky neck adds a ton of tone. SG Standards, despite pricier pick-ups and appointments, haven't matched my dinged-up black Special yet.
'02 Gibson Les Paul Classic. Cremona sunburst, all stock. I've played a lot of Les Pauls, and wanted to like them all. So many of my heros played vintage versions of them, after all...but frankly, I was rarely impressed. Then, I spotted this one at a very good price in the Victoria L & M. Again, this is one that doesn't look all that impressive on paper or in the flesh. The top has no figuring (tiger-striping or quilting) of the maple, and it has Gibson's ceramic-magnet humbuckers, which I usually find a bit too high-gain for my tastes. Just goes to show - specs can be quite misleading.
The Bad: Kramer Striker. In the Summer of '87, I went through quite a Van Halen kick, and also felt I had outgrown my little red Quest Atak-1. I knew Eddie VH played a Kramer strat-style guitar with one humbucking pick-up and a Floyd Rose whammy, so I started kicking tires in the local Okanagan music stores. Unfortunately, I wandered in to a Vernon shop (that wouldn't last the year, as it turned out) run by someone I thought I knew. Turns out this guy was willing to do or say anything for a buck (I'm guessing he had a pharmaceutical habit to support), and indeed - after sales pitches in-store and through several later phone calls, he convinced me to buy a Kramer Striker from him. Now, Strikers were kind of budget-level guitars to start with, but smaller urban populations tend to jack up the price somewhat - and upon closer inspection after I got it home, I found this one had had its headstock broken off and repaired not so well. Was it easy getting my money back the day after the transaction? It was like trying to retrieve a pork chop from a wolverine. I ended up getting some of my money back, with a fair chunk withheld for 're-stocking'. Pity I wasn't the crusty old man I am now. I'd show him re-stocking he'd never forget. Oh, well. He dispatched his own business in short order anyway. The white Kramer, with its tone-killing Floyd Rose and cheap materials, did at least convince me to ditch the student-level guitars once and for all and go pro. My next axe was my black Strat.
Early '70's Lyle SG-style: This one could easily fit in the 'ugly' category too. Made in Japan by the Matsumoku Company, the body and headstock shape were SG, but pick-ups, selectors and vibrato were primitive instruments of torture. Bridge, single-coil pick-ups and tailpiece were whimpy, action couldn't go very low, the neck was bolt-on and chunky. Tone was feeble. The upside? It was dirt cheap to buy (my first guitar, after all), and...well, it was cheap.
'87 American Standard Fender Stratocaster. Why did I keep playing this guitar? I couldn't afford much else, I wasn't too concerned with tone at the time (my, how things change), and I didn't know any better. I simply hadn't played any beautiful strats yet, and this one served its purpose. It certainly kicked ass on the guitars I'd owned until then, and the mid '80's were not known for great instruments anyway. What was bad about it? A thick polyeurethane finish over the neck and body that stifled tone (albeit rendering the thing virtually indestructible), thin-sounding pick-ups, and a very dense alder body made from at least three pieces of wood. As bad guitars go, I could have done far worse - but it's very tough to go back to it once one has tasted something better. The guitar has since been cannibalized, with the neck, pick-guard and a few bits of hardward now adorning some Warmoth creations. I suppose I could restore and sell it if '87 Strats every pick up vintage value...but I won't hold my breath.
The Ugly: Aside from the afore-mentioned Lyle and perhaps the red Quest, I wouldn't really call much of what I've owned ugly - but strange-looking? Gotta admit to that, and I know a number of folks who find the following guitars rather homely. Personally, I love 'em - and like Eli Wallach's character Tuco from 'the Good, the Bad and the Ugly', these ones are arguably the most interesting...
'02 Gibson Firebird. I'd tried out a Firebird or two over the years, and enjoyd their quirkiness. When I found one on EBay at a decent price, I couldn't resist - but this one proved strange. Firebirds are usually bright, twangy instruments, but this one was quite dark. I kept it in my closet for a couple of years until I happened upon a sale-price replacement pick-up (Seymour Duncan Antiquity II). On a whim, I bought and installed the pick-up, and voila - a real, bright twangy Firebird was born. Then, I got quite foolish and decided to widen the other pick-up cavity in order to take on a larger, P-90-sized TV Jones Filter 'Tron. I say foolish because I'm not experienced with a router, and if you screw up on a Firebird with a router, you are well and truly hooped. The neck and body are all one piece, so one can easily destroy the whole guitar with a slip of the grip. As it turns out, I did in fact suffer such a slip - but just enough to make the cavity about a millimetre too wide. My front pick-up has a little 'mote' around it, pretty unnoticeable unless you have your face a foot away from my guitar. Still makes me alternately cringe and sigh with relief. The result? I love this guitar's tone now - and I've never seen anyone else put a Filter'Tron in a Firebird. Always happy to be weirdly original.
Ibanez IC500 "Iceman". I used to naively believe an Iceman was an Iceman. Then I noticed from photographs of such players as Rick Neilsen, Paul Stanley, Steve Miller and local players, much can vary - inlay-work, binding, colours, pick-up configurations, and even manufacterers (they're not exclusively Ibanez. Neilsen, for example, holds a Greco Mirage on the back of the Budokan album). I first owned an IC300, which had only dot inlays and two control knobs. I added a third a la Paul Stanley's PS-10, but almost immediately traded it in for the four-knob, block-inlayed IC500. This Korean-made instrument has very unique-sounding humbucker pick-ups, and a beautifully slick feel. It probably doesn't suit me visually, but what the hell. If you're not shocking somebody, you're not reaching anybody.
Danelectro 6/12 Double-Neck. Affectionately labeled the 'Cow's Ass' (hold it headstock-down and you'll see the resemblance), this baby certainly looks weird. To add to the effect, it's metallic pearl in colour, with transparent pickguard and the requisite Danelectro lipstick-tubes as pick-up covers. I know a number of people who find doublenecks in general ugly, let alone this sparkly formica monstrosity - but it's got cool tone, it's been very handy for recording electric 12-string, and for better or worse - it always catches the eye when I bring it onstage...much like an Edsel.
When you're working in that kind of lengthy time frame, you meet a lot of different instruments.
In that department, Curtis is essentially playing on the same Pearl drum kit he played on when we started working together nearly 17 years ago (adding a wider choice of snares in addition to his trusty Zildjian, a cymbal or two, more precise pedals, and rearranging numerous times. He temporarily went electronic when we recorded "Better the Devil You Know..." in 1999, but not for long). I followed suit for about a decade, keeping to an unremarkable black '87 Fender Stratocaster for virtually all live work and recording. Working in a music store off-and-on for ten years provided me the opportunity to try out quite a variety of guitars, but I found the black strat too versatile, durable and comfortable to replace. From 2001, however, I had the means to widen my search somewhat, with the help of the internet and a decently-paid job. I also had a bit of luck at times. Here, then, is a run-down on some of the more notable specimens that have passed through my collection, or reside there now:
The Good: '93 G&L Legacy. Two-tone sunburst, maple fingerboard, 3-screw neck plate, ash body. Stock Seymour Duncan SSL pick-ups. This is 'George & Leo's' slight update on a Fender Strat (which Leo had developed forty years previously), with a more substantial bridge/saddle assembly and bass/treble adjustment instead of tone knobs for the front two pick-ups. The only change I made was replacing the perloid pick-guard with plain, 1-ply white. This one retired my black strat for good - with a deeper, more organic tone that kept its single-coil brilliance. It's rare that I don't bring this one to gigs.
'02 Gibson SG Special. All black, kinda banged up, and ridiculously lightweight. Probably my most unremarkable-looking guitar, but perhaps my favourite for tone, despite everything being stock. I bought this one through EBay, with modest expectations. I just liked the idea of owning an SG because my first guitar was SG-shaped. I once tried moving the stock SG pick-ups to a Gibson Explorer, to see if the magic came from the pick-ups: nope. Something about that ultra-light piece of wood and chunky neck adds a ton of tone. SG Standards, despite pricier pick-ups and appointments, haven't matched my dinged-up black Special yet.
'02 Gibson Les Paul Classic. Cremona sunburst, all stock. I've played a lot of Les Pauls, and wanted to like them all. So many of my heros played vintage versions of them, after all...but frankly, I was rarely impressed. Then, I spotted this one at a very good price in the Victoria L & M. Again, this is one that doesn't look all that impressive on paper or in the flesh. The top has no figuring (tiger-striping or quilting) of the maple, and it has Gibson's ceramic-magnet humbuckers, which I usually find a bit too high-gain for my tastes. Just goes to show - specs can be quite misleading.
The Bad: Kramer Striker. In the Summer of '87, I went through quite a Van Halen kick, and also felt I had outgrown my little red Quest Atak-1. I knew Eddie VH played a Kramer strat-style guitar with one humbucking pick-up and a Floyd Rose whammy, so I started kicking tires in the local Okanagan music stores. Unfortunately, I wandered in to a Vernon shop (that wouldn't last the year, as it turned out) run by someone I thought I knew. Turns out this guy was willing to do or say anything for a buck (I'm guessing he had a pharmaceutical habit to support), and indeed - after sales pitches in-store and through several later phone calls, he convinced me to buy a Kramer Striker from him. Now, Strikers were kind of budget-level guitars to start with, but smaller urban populations tend to jack up the price somewhat - and upon closer inspection after I got it home, I found this one had had its headstock broken off and repaired not so well. Was it easy getting my money back the day after the transaction? It was like trying to retrieve a pork chop from a wolverine. I ended up getting some of my money back, with a fair chunk withheld for 're-stocking'. Pity I wasn't the crusty old man I am now. I'd show him re-stocking he'd never forget. Oh, well. He dispatched his own business in short order anyway. The white Kramer, with its tone-killing Floyd Rose and cheap materials, did at least convince me to ditch the student-level guitars once and for all and go pro. My next axe was my black Strat.
Early '70's Lyle SG-style: This one could easily fit in the 'ugly' category too. Made in Japan by the Matsumoku Company, the body and headstock shape were SG, but pick-ups, selectors and vibrato were primitive instruments of torture. Bridge, single-coil pick-ups and tailpiece were whimpy, action couldn't go very low, the neck was bolt-on and chunky. Tone was feeble. The upside? It was dirt cheap to buy (my first guitar, after all), and...well, it was cheap.
'87 American Standard Fender Stratocaster. Why did I keep playing this guitar? I couldn't afford much else, I wasn't too concerned with tone at the time (my, how things change), and I didn't know any better. I simply hadn't played any beautiful strats yet, and this one served its purpose. It certainly kicked ass on the guitars I'd owned until then, and the mid '80's were not known for great instruments anyway. What was bad about it? A thick polyeurethane finish over the neck and body that stifled tone (albeit rendering the thing virtually indestructible), thin-sounding pick-ups, and a very dense alder body made from at least three pieces of wood. As bad guitars go, I could have done far worse - but it's very tough to go back to it once one has tasted something better. The guitar has since been cannibalized, with the neck, pick-guard and a few bits of hardward now adorning some Warmoth creations. I suppose I could restore and sell it if '87 Strats every pick up vintage value...but I won't hold my breath.
The Ugly: Aside from the afore-mentioned Lyle and perhaps the red Quest, I wouldn't really call much of what I've owned ugly - but strange-looking? Gotta admit to that, and I know a number of folks who find the following guitars rather homely. Personally, I love 'em - and like Eli Wallach's character Tuco from 'the Good, the Bad and the Ugly', these ones are arguably the most interesting...
'02 Gibson Firebird. I'd tried out a Firebird or two over the years, and enjoyd their quirkiness. When I found one on EBay at a decent price, I couldn't resist - but this one proved strange. Firebirds are usually bright, twangy instruments, but this one was quite dark. I kept it in my closet for a couple of years until I happened upon a sale-price replacement pick-up (Seymour Duncan Antiquity II). On a whim, I bought and installed the pick-up, and voila - a real, bright twangy Firebird was born. Then, I got quite foolish and decided to widen the other pick-up cavity in order to take on a larger, P-90-sized TV Jones Filter 'Tron. I say foolish because I'm not experienced with a router, and if you screw up on a Firebird with a router, you are well and truly hooped. The neck and body are all one piece, so one can easily destroy the whole guitar with a slip of the grip. As it turns out, I did in fact suffer such a slip - but just enough to make the cavity about a millimetre too wide. My front pick-up has a little 'mote' around it, pretty unnoticeable unless you have your face a foot away from my guitar. Still makes me alternately cringe and sigh with relief. The result? I love this guitar's tone now - and I've never seen anyone else put a Filter'Tron in a Firebird. Always happy to be weirdly original.
Ibanez IC500 "Iceman". I used to naively believe an Iceman was an Iceman. Then I noticed from photographs of such players as Rick Neilsen, Paul Stanley, Steve Miller and local players, much can vary - inlay-work, binding, colours, pick-up configurations, and even manufacterers (they're not exclusively Ibanez. Neilsen, for example, holds a Greco Mirage on the back of the Budokan album). I first owned an IC300, which had only dot inlays and two control knobs. I added a third a la Paul Stanley's PS-10, but almost immediately traded it in for the four-knob, block-inlayed IC500. This Korean-made instrument has very unique-sounding humbucker pick-ups, and a beautifully slick feel. It probably doesn't suit me visually, but what the hell. If you're not shocking somebody, you're not reaching anybody.
Danelectro 6/12 Double-Neck. Affectionately labeled the 'Cow's Ass' (hold it headstock-down and you'll see the resemblance), this baby certainly looks weird. To add to the effect, it's metallic pearl in colour, with transparent pickguard and the requisite Danelectro lipstick-tubes as pick-up covers. I know a number of people who find doublenecks in general ugly, let alone this sparkly formica monstrosity - but it's got cool tone, it's been very handy for recording electric 12-string, and for better or worse - it always catches the eye when I bring it onstage...much like an Edsel.