Afternoon of Cabs
So I keep thinking what I really need is to buy another cab. The Rectifier V-30, 2x12 I have is great, amazing, I love it. and I want more, except I'm not in the market.
Actually, what I really want is less. Less? How can I say how cool this cab is and want less? Less work, that's how. Owning twin 2x12 cabs, I can leave one in Keith's basement and one in mine. All I have to do is tote around a guitar and head. Then, come showtime, stack the cabs and feel assured there's enough trouser-flappin' whomp to please the U.S. Air Force.
So last week on my half-day, I figured I'd stop by CV's, given they're the only MESA dealer in town, and see if they have one.
Sure did. Sitting right there on the floor, smooth and clean. Of course I was immediately met with the sales staff, who recognized me (I bought a high-end amp there after all). Let's call him "Dude", because, well... it fits. He's early forties. Bald but shaves the rest, so he has this 5-o'clock-shadow-round-the-side-of-his-head-thing going. Not to mention the low buttoned shirts and necklace. You've seen the type: Old Enough to Know Better.
He comes up and I ask about the 2x12. Five-hundred-something.
He's crackers.
Even though I'm not in the market, I told him I could go about three-fifty and he declined. Something came out of my mouth about me finding one cheaper on eBay anyway, and I asked him if he had any Marshall V-30, 4x12's.
Yes he did. A used 1960A. And was it. He marched the old soldier across the floor over beside the MESA line and went for a comparable guitar to my PRS soapbar I've brought in before. Here's the cool part. He came back with a Gibson Les Paul GT--one of those untouchables that hang high behind the counter. Wow, that thing felt good. The tag on it was somewhere around the three-thousand mark. Cant's say when I last played a guitar priced over $3,000. I figure it was because they think I'm a sucker with money that'll buy anything, when I'm actually quite the opposite.
Finding a Solo-50 head like mine, I hooked up and re-adjusted the knobs so it'll make some real sound instead of what Metalboy with the pink hair had been playing. Dude plugs in the Marshall cab, flips the stand-by and I rip out a few chops.
Not bad. Not great.
Both Dude and Metalboy acted impressed, but as I sat there, I couldn't help thinking my 2x12 kicked what I'd just heard. So I set the Rectifier's output from "Stun" to "Kill", thinking maybe the showroom was too big to "feel it", and hit a nice, thick chord, one that skews picture frames on my walls back home.
Nothing. Okay, a little something.
That really suprised me though. I was expecting more, but it just wasn't there. I made a face at the cab and Dude asked if I was interested. "Four-hundred," he said. Right, buddy. Right.
"I don't think so, my 2x12 has more nuts than this thing," I told him. It was as if I'd cursed The Almighty by how he reacted. He got defensive and was all, "Well let's just see," then pulls out from the Marshall and plugs into a Traditional Rectifier 4x12 poised beside it.
Sometimes I wish I'd keep my mouth shut and think first. What if I was wrong? You can really stir up trouble that way, especially if it's blasphemy. So after Dude flicked the stand-by again and stepped back to show me how depraved I was, I hit the same chord. Remember, I'd lethally juiced the 50's volume.
Let me assure you, The Boogie could have been an M-1 Abrams firing off in there. You couldn't hear yourself think! The gaping looks on both their faces were priceless (so was the relief on mine!). Gripping low-end squished your insides as the chord resonated. Vertebrae rattled. No joke. All from that one trick chord. It likened to nothing I've ever felt from a 4x12. Thing tickled my bone marrow. Even the floor shuddered. "You see what I'm saying?" I asked once we could hear again. "No, I'm not interested in that Marshall. Actually, I should get going."
He must have "wowed" four times before dragging the fallen Marshall away. Could have been bad speakers, loose wiring, beer stains, the sun was in its eyes, whatever. I'm not here to slam Marshalls. Having grown up on them, they've been a staple to my rock since I can remember. Yet, was that awesome or what!
I think it's kind of like growing up. In some way or another, we strive to exceed our parents best, because, for some reason, in our heads, that's a litmus test to whether or not we'll "make it". It's like proving to ourselves we can do it, that we won't end up in a van down by the river.
So, right there before God and everybody, when that Boogie drop-kicked the Marshall I'd always seen and heard and played and admired, I knew My Sound was maturing--that I could make it. Builds confidence you know what you're doing, in addition to trust in what you're playing. Does for me, anyway, and henceforth, I Boogie.
(coming up: Metalboy Says He's Going to Get One and I Perform in the CMA Buck Owens Tribute )
Actually, what I really want is less. Less? How can I say how cool this cab is and want less? Less work, that's how. Owning twin 2x12 cabs, I can leave one in Keith's basement and one in mine. All I have to do is tote around a guitar and head. Then, come showtime, stack the cabs and feel assured there's enough trouser-flappin' whomp to please the U.S. Air Force.So last week on my half-day, I figured I'd stop by CV's, given they're the only MESA dealer in town, and see if they have one.
Sure did. Sitting right there on the floor, smooth and clean. Of course I was immediately met with the sales staff, who recognized me (I bought a high-end amp there after all). Let's call him "Dude", because, well... it fits. He's early forties. Bald but shaves the rest, so he has this 5-o'clock-shadow-round-the-side-of-his-head-thing going. Not to mention the low buttoned shirts and necklace. You've seen the type: Old Enough to Know Better.
He comes up and I ask about the 2x12. Five-hundred-something.
He's crackers.
Even though I'm not in the market, I told him I could go about three-fifty and he declined. Something came out of my mouth about me finding one cheaper on eBay anyway, and I asked him if he had any Marshall V-30, 4x12's.
Yes he did. A used 1960A. And was it. He marched the old soldier across the floor over beside the MESA line and went for a comparable guitar to my PRS soapbar I've brought in before. Here's the cool part. He came back with a Gibson Les Paul GT--one of those untouchables that hang high behind the counter. Wow, that thing felt good. The tag on it was somewhere around the three-thousand mark. Cant's say when I last played a guitar priced over $3,000. I figure it was because they think I'm a sucker with money that'll buy anything, when I'm actually quite the opposite.
Finding a Solo-50 head like mine, I hooked up and re-adjusted the knobs so it'll make some real sound instead of what Metalboy with the pink hair had been playing. Dude plugs in the Marshall cab, flips the stand-by and I rip out a few chops.Not bad. Not great.
Both Dude and Metalboy acted impressed, but as I sat there, I couldn't help thinking my 2x12 kicked what I'd just heard. So I set the Rectifier's output from "Stun" to "Kill", thinking maybe the showroom was too big to "feel it", and hit a nice, thick chord, one that skews picture frames on my walls back home.
Nothing. Okay, a little something.
That really suprised me though. I was expecting more, but it just wasn't there. I made a face at the cab and Dude asked if I was interested. "Four-hundred," he said. Right, buddy. Right.
"I don't think so, my 2x12 has more nuts than this thing," I told him. It was as if I'd cursed The Almighty by how he reacted. He got defensive and was all, "Well let's just see," then pulls out from the Marshall and plugs into a Traditional Rectifier 4x12 poised beside it.
Sometimes I wish I'd keep my mouth shut and think first. What if I was wrong? You can really stir up trouble that way, especially if it's blasphemy. So after Dude flicked the stand-by again and stepped back to show me how depraved I was, I hit the same chord. Remember, I'd lethally juiced the 50's volume.
Let me assure you, The Boogie could have been an M-1 Abrams firing off in there. You couldn't hear yourself think! The gaping looks on both their faces were priceless (so was the relief on mine!). Gripping low-end squished your insides as the chord resonated. Vertebrae rattled. No joke. All from that one trick chord. It likened to nothing I've ever felt from a 4x12. Thing tickled my bone marrow. Even the floor shuddered. "You see what I'm saying?" I asked once we could hear again. "No, I'm not interested in that Marshall. Actually, I should get going."He must have "wowed" four times before dragging the fallen Marshall away. Could have been bad speakers, loose wiring, beer stains, the sun was in its eyes, whatever. I'm not here to slam Marshalls. Having grown up on them, they've been a staple to my rock since I can remember. Yet, was that awesome or what!
I think it's kind of like growing up. In some way or another, we strive to exceed our parents best, because, for some reason, in our heads, that's a litmus test to whether or not we'll "make it". It's like proving to ourselves we can do it, that we won't end up in a van down by the river.
So, right there before God and everybody, when that Boogie drop-kicked the Marshall I'd always seen and heard and played and admired, I knew My Sound was maturing--that I could make it. Builds confidence you know what you're doing, in addition to trust in what you're playing. Does for me, anyway, and henceforth, I Boogie.
(coming up: Metalboy Says He's Going to Get One and I Perform in the CMA Buck Owens Tribute )
posted by about me at 9:34 PM
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