Pseudonym

Killing Joke were the second band I saw live (The Damned were the first). Youth, Paul Raven and Paul Gray all helped me to understand better how to make my guitar playing work organically and dynamically with a bassist's playing.Their bass playing, and their judgement, taught me a lot about collaborating with bassists and others in a band. Punk girls weren't the reason I picked up the bass, but they were the reason I went from looking like Ben Elton to looking like Tom Verlaine in less than a week.

Boy, are we late to that banquet.

Another vote for Burnel in particular, although many punk bassists opened my eyes. I bought my first bass (a Precision) from a mate in Liverpool, a speed freak who claimed -- with some plausibility -- some connection with Burnel that I can't remember in detail. (It had something to do with driving around Bristol picking up girls.) I was wide-eyed (not as much as my mate) and eighteen, so the tang of punk credibility led me to form a band with him on bass. We were terrible -- way too lunched-out -- but our cover of "Mutiny in Heaven" was at least as rowdy as the Birthday Party ever managed. RIP "Damage" Dave, and cheers for the inspiration.

That sounds like a fine space and I wish you joy with it. A few comments to add to what others have said: Yes, humidity is much more likely to be a problem. Electro-acoustics tend to be more vulnerable, so I'd certainly aim to keep that in its case. A humidity level of 40-60% should be fine. Guitar humidification systems, and hygrometers to measure ambient humidity, are relatively inexpensive ways to reduce the risks. The more you can reduce temperature fluctuations, the better. That might mean identifying the most stable area of the room before deciding where the instruments should live. All true. Keeping instruments in their cases is by far the better option in my view, especially if you are concerned about temperature and humidity. A guitar in a case can survive a great deal. The dealer I bought my guitar from kept each instrument in its case, and each case stored horizontally on a shelving unit with one case per shelf. You could probably fit four cases on shelves under a counter-height (or even desk-height) top. That might be efficient in a combined office/studio.

Here's a glimpse into my little corner of this abyss: "Joy to the World" (1970/71), by Three Dog Night. I managed to get through the first three decades of my life without hearing this song. I think of those as “the lucky years”. "I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)" (1993), by Meat Loaf. I had a mate whose girlfriend loved this song. To indulge her, he’d turn up the car radio and she’d sing along. After two weeks with the song at number one in the charts, I hated the song. After three weeks, I hated the girlfriend. After four weeks, I hated the entire concept of human love. The fact that Mr. Blobby eventually downsized Mr. Loaf in the charts was a Pyrrhic victory, to say the least. "Theme from M.A.S.H. (Suicide Is Painless)" (1992), by the Manic Street Preachers. I don’t care that it was for charity. I’m not feeling charitable. A Hi-NRG version of "Strange Fruit" would be less misjudged. I need a drink.

I think you have a solid attitude to the situation and every reason to feel confident about whatever comes along. There's no harm in having the occasional crisis of confidence, especially if you come out of it feeling reinvigorated. Thanks for raising a useful question. Best of luck to you.

I recently finished recording my first album and released it online. Most of the way through the process, I was satisfied with the general quality and pleased with the high points. Two weeks after I had agreed with my collaborator to release it, I developed profound doubts about all the tracks but one. Was my guitar sound just that little bit too slicing? Were my keyboard parts annoyingly (rather than usefully) repetitive? Would I release it only to discover that it was aesthetically invalid, a complete disappointment to me and to anyone who heard it? I climbed down after a few days when I got some particularly generous comments from one of the handful of people to whom I had sent the album. I'm happy with it. It isn't close to perfect but it's a decent first effort. I can stand by it. Ultimately, however, only by releasing it could I calibrate my self-doubt. Over the course of more than twenty years as a writer, I cannot think of a single thing I have published that I did not, at some stage or another, regard as wrong-headed and fatally flawed drivel. At some point in every project, I am briefly certain that I should simply quit writing. Even though I know the finished work is always successful, I invariably have those episodes of corrosive doubt. I simply have to trust my processes and accept that self-doubt, like stage-fright for an actor, can be a necessary ingredient. Writers can see every shortcut and shaky construction. Musicians can hear every muffled tone and misplaced harmonic. First-hand experience of assembling something can make you second-guess everything. There is a huge difference between doing something badly and not doing it as well as you know you can.

You're making a tangible double A-sided petulant scream into the void. I shall think of you as a pamphleteer of dissent in an age of digital glut. I have no practical suggestions to add to this useful thread, merely encouragement and respect for the process you have chosen.

My commiserations, ChrisDev. It is awful to go through this. Sending you good thoughts, and keeping my fingers crossed for a quick and safe return. One of the greatest services that musicians can do for each other, IMHO, is keeping an eye out for stolen gear. Happy to do what little I can.

I have never imported a musical instrument into the United States but I did order a large-format camera from a U.K. supplier a few years ago. Three comments: 1. It is vital that the information on the customs declaration be correct, especially the HS tariff number. Supporting documentation (invoices, for example) should be clear and consistent. 2. Communication with the recipient to double-check paperwork and all arrangements is time well spent. 3. As The Greek wisely says, avoid false economies. Adequate insurance, adequate packaging and experienced couriers minimise the risks considerably. Obviously, if the bass is made from any materials covered by CITES appendices I or II, the exporting process is much more complicated. Hope that helps, Krzysztof.

This sounds like a good outcome to me. You can still play as a band, you would have more time and space to develop your own work, and you would still be able to play live -- in your own time, and on your terms -- if and when you have the urge. The schedule and conditions you mentioned in your posts sound like an ordeal rather than pleasure. Nonetheless, if the problem is that the band's success outstripped your aspirations for it, I can only say, "Good for you." Whatever the future holds, I hope the final gig was much better (and cooler) than you feared.

Chris B nailed it, I think. It's partly a matter of professionalism and respect (for the audience and for each other), but it might also be a question of dealing with anxiety. Solid rules, and at least a modicum of discipline, can help to depersonalise things. If the singer is anxious (perhaps about having to perform at a new level), that anxiety will feed on any opportunity to revisit or second-guess the material. Anything that can take the material out of the singer's hands would probably help everyone, not least the singer. (In the studio, at least you can point out how expensive it is to keep tinkering unnecessarily!)

Might the deterioration in quality have something to do with losing Scott Litt as a producer? I also suspect the band outlasted their natural longevity in the musical ecosystem and then broke up before there was any chance of a reinvention or a sustainable late style. Eventual loss of purpose isn't the worst fate for an influential band, I suppose. Some of their earlier work still sounds like it could have been made last week, which is probably as good a legacy as any.

Maybe we're spoilt for choice these days. As several people have said here, there's a formidable amount of material with few good ways to sort through it -- and every recording made today is subject to comparison with decades of readily available recordings. A Briton of my age and tastes had certain predictable ways to get into music: lots of gigs, specialised radio shows, a lively and partisan music press, subcultural word of mouth, trial-and-error record purchases etc. That process took time and money, but it was almost a rite of passage. Whatever it was that you liked about the music -- technical virtuosity, emotional heft, a connection with your own life -- you probably grasped why you responded to it, and who you were as you did so. Today, it's both easier and more difficult to conduct that kind of deeply personal aesthetic courtship. I don't think music is getting worse. I do think that my old habits need occasional adjustment.

Cheers for the warm welcome. I've wandered around a bit and this looks like a proper place. There's even a photo of my old supermarket on a "General Discussions" thread, so I already feel at home.

This is slightly tangential and I'm new here, but I offer my experience with late-'80s MIJ Fender guitars in case it is helpful. I bought my first MIJ Strat new in 1987. I bought an identical guitar three years later. Build years were probably 1986 and 1989 respectively. They were both fantastic: very well constucted, with some of the tidiest wiring I have ever seen. At least as well built as the early-'80s US Precision I had at the time. I was distraught when I lost them. The only difference between the two Strats was tonal, and it seemed to be down to the wood used. Both sounded good, but they did sound quite different through amps, played unamplified, and especially when I rapped the body with my knuckles. Possibly it was just chance that the differences were even noticeable. If the basses are like that, however, the inherent sound might vary quite a bit from one example to another. If it were my money, I'd want to be comfortable with how it sounds unplugged as well as amplified -- and, if satisfied, I'd be extremely optimistic.

Greetings to all. I'm a British writer based in the U.S. who records music for relaxation and for creative procrastination. I play guitar and flirt with keyboards, but don't play live. Bass was my second instrument until I sold a thoroughly battered Fender Precision for a pittance in 1989. Thirty years without a bass is definitely too long, so I'm getting reacquainted with the subject. I'm here to learn and to contribute from time to time. Looking forward to getting back into it. Best wishes, and see you around.