BrinkZINE: GUITAR GEEK CONFIDENTIAL

GUITAR GEEK CONFIDENTIAL

Every psychopath gets his own magazine these days…

Bruce Cockburn

I hit bottom at Gryphon Music up in Palo Alto with a voluptuous D-18 Martin Golden era dreadnaught. The guitar was unremarkable in appearance but the tone that was pumping out of it was...bonerific Tight, round bottom with a sweet, blooming top end. It felt almost alive perched and pulsating in my lap, all quarter sawn Mahogany and Rosewood curves. I looked around, nobody was watching. I laid the guitar flat in my lap and examined the silky Spruce soundhole, ostensibly to read the label down inside. Then quickly, I brought the guitar up to my face and put my nose right down in the hole itself and inhaled deeply.

I honestly have no idea how long I'd sat there lost in the musky aroma of the tropical wood. Long enough for the guy to walk out from behind the counter over to the practice room and catch me red handed. “Uhh…how’s it going back here?”. I think he was more embarrassed than I was.

There were all kinds of warning signs prior. I'm blessed with a job that lets me set my own schedule sometimes. If I have to be in the Bay Area on business, I might as well be there when Jim Campilongo is back in town right? And while I'm up there I could probably have lunch somewhere near Subway Guitars right? I came home from that trip with two Teisco gold foil pickups and a coffee can full of old screws, switches and potentiometers. My wallet was $125 lighter. Mrs. Sepulveda was not impressed.

A good husband would have taken her out for dinner and drinks in atonenement. A rich husband would have bought jewelry and a night at the Radisson. A guitar geek takes 125 more dollars and opens up a slush fund along with an offsite mailbox. Now I could transfer money to PayPal and she wouldn't have a clue.

The brightly colored effects pedals soon started arriving at my secret mailbox with alarming regularity. Jane, the Vietnamese clerk seemed interested "What you get today? 'nother pedal?" I opened the package and tried to explain "You step on it here and it goes wonk wonk achicka wonk…you know, like Shaft." I'd subconciously started playing air guitar but caught myself and hurredly slipped the wah into my satchel. That's how I'd bring them into our home. Then I'd rotate them into the lineup while I was "practicing". Mrs. Sepulveda would be in there vacuuming a few days later and say something like "What happened to the green one?" I'd say "I traded it to Stacy for the blue one."

It was almost true, the people on eBay say I'm great, items just as described, a real fast shipper.. Yeah, I should have seen it coming. You can break the hearts of your family and friends but sometimes it takes a total stranger to make you realize how low you've sunk. And that's what happened to me up in Palo Alto, my nose deep inside a $2500 Martin.

"….I uh…I like the smell of the wood. Mahogany"

"How long have you been smelling guitars?"

"I don't know (getting a little pissed) quite a while"

"You sure it's not the smell of the glue you like?"

He then blessed me with a kind of immersion therapy. He ordered me to smell the Martin again "get a good whiff" then we walked around the store smelling more Martins, Gibsons and Taylors. Maple, Rosewood, Mahogany they all smelled pretty much the same. "It's the glue, a new guitar smells like glue on the inside". Then he handed me an old Gibson Humingbird "smell it " he commanded. I put my nose up to the hole and inhaled. Nothing but a dry dusty smell. "The glue cured long ago and the wood has dried out. That's the smell of a fine old guitar. Now, what kind of guitar do you want to buy today?"

I walked out of that store humiliated but cured. And all it cost me was $25, the price of a set of phosphor bronze strings and a Shubb capo.

After that I didn't want to play a guitar let alone smell one. Slowly the little pedals began to disappear and Mrs. Sepulveda started getting dinner and drinks, even some live music now and then. I sold an old Boss vibrato pedal for $230 just in time for Valentine's and we stayed at The Radisson that night. Until very recently I was down to my clapped out Alvarez dread, a nice made in Mexico Stratocaster, a Peavy Bandit and a POD and I've been happy.

Back in April I found myself at the Carvin factory down in San Diego County and this thing followed me home. Made in Korea, on sale for a stupid price and one of the best guitars I've ever played. My best friend Stacy insisted on buying it for me, said my old Alvarez would give me tendonitis if I kept playing it…

I piss and moan a lot but I've been blessed by some fine people. Over and over again. I guess it really is true, God watches out for children and guitar geeks.

REACTIONSAscending | Descending

CHUCK PROPHET

Thursday, 12 July 2007

Gryphon? Shit, I bought my Martin D 28 there. 1990, 91 or so? I remember the clerk said they "take checks" no problem. Said: "we've found that musicians are honest people." I'm like, WHO IS THIS GUY? But I went home with a brand new D 28. And all things being equal, when me and Dan Stuart arrived in Nashville shortly after to make that record with Al Kooper, I insisted that Dan get his own Martin. And so he did. A D 18. Bought it at Gruhns. He's still got it. It's got a big crack in it that he claims appeared after that monsoon in India or wherever.

I never really thought much of mine, but in the immortal words of Willie Nelson: you buy a Martin it ought to last you a lifetime.

RENO SEPULVEDA

Friday, 13 July 2007

I didn't mean to imply Martins have the market cornered on bonerific tone but that particular one sure was nice. That's a big factor in the illness, you realize the gems hide among the turds that's basically what Joe Glaser once told me long ago.

ZOGTONE

Sunday, 06 January 2008

old guitars definitely have an "air" about them you bet. i was in a buddy's studio a while back and since we're both kay-geeks, he pulls out his latest ebay conquest to tease me. a blonde '58 barney kessel jazz special in the original case. talk about aromatic...when he opened the case it was intoxicating. instant time travel aromatherapy. i began to hum "mack the knife" and had a craving for a cold stubby of burgie and a lucky strike.

CHUCK PROPHET

Sunday, 06 January 2008

Every psychopath gets his own magazine these daysâ€¦

-Bruce Cockburn

Â

Bruce,

Darwin loves you.

-Chuck P

DAVO

Sunday, 06 January 2008

its a disease i swear, not just a compulsion....about twice a year i fall prey. i remember dan stuart trying like a fiend to buy my buddys random accoustic back in the early 80's...he seemed to hear something there that none of the rest of us could.

CHUCK PROPHET

Sunday, 06 January 2008

Dan " seemed to hear something there that none of the rest of us could"

Are you talkin about OUR Dan Stuart?

C

CHUCK PROPHET

Sunday, 06 January 2008

Dan " seemed to hear something there that none of the rest of us could"

Are you talkin about OUR Dan Stuart?

C

ZOGTONE

Sunday, 06 January 2008

ok...back in the early eighties....um hmmm...

i dont know about you guys, but i SAW a lot of stuff no one else could.

DAVO

Sunday, 06 January 2008

yes indeed, your very own dan....he really had the urge to have that guitar, but no sale-maybe it was something he "saw" ;)

CHUCK PROPHET

Sunday, 06 January 2008

No, I think you were high. Dan may exhibit fiend like behavior, but over a guitar? Shit....

I doubt it.

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GUITAR GEEK CONFIDENTIAL

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