Muzz

I take your point about the guitar mix, though...it's not an uncommon phenomenon with Guitar Heroes 🙂

Ummmm... 😕

I've posted a couple of extremely curmudgeonly reviews of bands at the Arena in Manchester (Alterbridge were I think the last), and although it wasn't necessarily the only moan I had (did I mention 'curmudgeonly'?) the main problem was the sheer volume that the sound engineers were trying to generate in an enormous space, which resulted in a positively painful experience when looking down the barrels of the PA, and was still godawfully loud, even when we moved (we moved several times) right to the very back of the arena, in the out-of-sync* seats by the back wall. Just stupid, and of course everything revolved around the howitzer-sounding kick, and went downhill from there. It's not just small gigs that suffer from excessive volume: it'll be some time before I consider going back to the Arena, and I'm not the only one... * You know, the ones so far away from the stage the sound and lights are out of sync...as proved in the legendary experiment with the difference between relative speeds of sound and light aka 'Give us a shout when you see it' ...

Coupla things: 'He is a good drummer apart from the dynamics' is kinda like 'He is a good bassist apart from the notes', and if your guitarist can't hear himself, point his cab at his head; I'm gonna guess he's standing in front of (at worst*) a 412 pointing at his knees - one of those tilt-back things works a treat, and costs about a tenner. We did this with a Dep, and he soon got the point... my tinnitus really kicked in (yeah, I know it's a cumulative thing, but there was one gig when it started properly, and it's never stopped) after a gig where we were squeezed into a booth area in a chain pub in Leeds, and the second (dep) guitard had had to put his 112 combo onto a bar stool at nearly head height behind me. In context, we weren't massively loud, not was he, but the combination of his tone (again, not necessarily bad in context, just harsh close up) and the 112 pointing at my head did the trick. 😕 * Actually, I've realised 'at worst' could be a full 2x412 Martial Stack, in which case there's no hope, because he's already deaf... 😕

80s, but not the good 80s; the kinda naff, spandex-driven 80s... We're the By Jovi band I've alluded to in the Audition From Hell thread a while ago, we'd achieved a functioning drummer, and decided to embark on a UK Tour in installments...basically, we'd been through the back of Kerrang, listed the pubs/venues that other folk were playing, and phoned them up. The furthest North was a place in Stirling, which, of course, we couldn't manage to hang another gig off, so we were going to have to drive up and back in a day. Oh good. Singist blags a Merc van off his Dad, which was certainly big enough for all the gear, if a little elderly. Guitarist turns up with his mate, whose reputation had preceded him as a Proper Roadie. As he and I are the only driving license holders in the entourage, it's decided I'll drive up and he'll drive back, as I've spent the morning in work, and I'm clearly going to be far too fatigued with playing and then fighting off the attentions of adoring fans and almost certainly herds of groupies to drive back. Off we go. 400 yards later Proper Roadie demands a comfort break, an event which he repeats at depressingly frequent intervals during the 250-mile journey, hinting at early-onset incontinence issues. The trip is made even more depressing by the realisation that the van's 50mph top speed isn't quite enough, even with all the windows down in the rain, to expel all the carbon monoxide which the broken exhaust is depositing into the cab. The van's also doing about 8mpg, but at least that means we get to stagger out, coughing and wheezing and doing that wafting thing, at every services between Manchester and Stirling. By teatime we're at the venue, all is suspiciously quiet, and the total lack of any of the posters we'd sent should have set warning bells ringing. The landlord, who in hindsight had been just a bit too keen to get us to play this particular weekend (I might add here we were doing this for a fee based on 'Either what you can take on the door, or 10% of the bar, boys' i.e. nowt from the landlord himself) welcomes us with a beaming smile and cheerful predictions that 'the place'll be rammed very soon, boys'. Predictions he seems happy to repeat throughout the evening, despite increasingly overwhelming evidence to the contrary. And so, chanting the hopeless mantra 'Well, we're here now, we may as well...' we set up and soundcheck. Proper Roadie, his heavy lifting duties discharged for the time being, returns from the bar beaming and holding a pint "This Drybrough's Heavy* is good stuff. I'll just have a couple, I'll be right as rain by the time you're finished." I should really have paid closer attention, but right then we were more tasked wondering where the the adoring fans were all meeting prior to turning up en masse. We settle down to a couple of hours of taking it in turns to wander outside to look up and down the street, eyes peeled for any signs of the crowd, before eventually deciding that we'll go on and start, because then the siren-song of, erm our songs will inevitably draw the punters in... I might add at this point that in the three hours we've been at the venue no-one, and I mean no-one, has even looked in the door, and the sole other occupant is the landlord, who has disppeared to his back room, and has taken to just popping his head round the door every now and then, giving us a two-thumbs-up, pulling another pint for Proper Roadie (I did say I should have been paying closer attention) and disappearing again. After some tense negotiation, we decide that a door take might scare off the potential punters, and we'll settle for 10% of the bar take, relying on some last-minute hard-drinking Scottish rock fans to take the edge off the diesel bill to get home. Off we go, all staring at the door, willing the punters in. Nothing. Not a Scottish sausage. Another scout of the postcode in the break reveals a deserted neighbourhood, with nary a punter to be seen. Spirits are low, with the exception of Proper Roadie, who is very happy indeed, about something or other. As I've said before, I wasn't paying much attention... Then, in the middle of the second set, two ladies wander in and up to the bar. Our somewhat listless performance jumps up several gears, anticipating the late surge of fans, and many unwise shapes are thrown for their benefit. Perhaps understandably, given the desperately pirouetting, lungeing and eyebrow-waggling idiots on stage all trying to catch their eye, they drink up quick and leave. Are they rushing off to bring all their friends? No, they aren't. We finish the second set, not even able to face playing an encore to ourselves, and start to break the kit down. The singist, always a man of infinite resource when there's things to be lifted which might be heavier than his mike stand, volunteers himself to seek out the landlord. He returns holding aloft our earnings for the day, the princely sum of 15p. He shows us a piece of paper on which the landlord has helpfully detailed the important financial transaction: '2 x halves of lager @ 75p each = £1.50 x 10% = 15p. Cheers boys.' We look up. The landlord is once again absent. 'Read it again' says the drummer, squinting like Peter Grant looking for the catch in a new contract... 'We could raffle it' says the guitarist, ever the optimist/cretin. It is by now gone midnight, and we've the really big PA boxes to shift, and now, far, far too late, I'm looking for Proper Roadie. He is eventually found out in the beer garden slumped in a pool of...let's just say 'his own making' and leave it there. Drybrough's finest (or at least Heaviest) appears to have snuck up on him somewhat. We take an arm each, and without getting too close at any point, give him a cursory rinse under the outside tap before depositing him damply in the back with the gear. And so it's down to me to drive us all home, dispirited, unadored and possibly even more tragically, un-Groupie'd. I've been awake for twenty hours so far, have participated in loading up, out, setup, played, and loaded it all back again. With added Comatose Proper Soggy Roadie. And now another six or seven hours before bed. Showing splendid soldarity in the face of adversity, everyone is snoring by the end of the road, and only my lung-busting coughing is keeping me awake. Somewhere in the Borders and the Wee Small Hours I succumb into the arms of Morpheus and we have a refreshingly exciting 150-yard off-road excursion up an embankment of a dual carriageway, eventually thumping back onto the road with miraculously little damage, although Proper Roadie in the back sounds like he might have to have a stand removed from a body cavity when we finally get back home. I pull over at the next layby and kill the engine. Some more tense negotiation reveals the fact that the drummer has a Provisional license, and is willing to consider a spot of Deserted Dual Carriageway Driving. We convince him it'll be good practice. As his de facto supervising license holder and guiding presence, I immediately get into the back bench seat and go to sleep, albeit in a supervisory and possibly guidey manner. We got home just after lunch the next day. Proper Roadie never roadied for us again. We never did find out why Stirling was deserted on a Saturday night. Oh, and I've just rememberd the Battle Of The Bands thing we did at the (then kinda big) Willows Variety Centre in Salford, hosted by none other than the brother of Johnny 'What's Another Year' Logan, erstwhile Eurovision Song Contest winner (where's the Hobnobbing With The Stars thread?), who made a point of telling us he was wearing the very jacket that Johnny won in...his breathless pause for gasps of awe came and went without remark, which seemed to disappoint him. We came third to a children's steel band and a vent act. That wasn't a great afternoon but, like facing a firing squad, at least it didn't take long. * For the Caledonian Quaffing Cognescenti, this'll date it a treat, given that Google tells me Drybough & Co were Borg'd and shut down by Allied in 1987...

This, in spades: we've had deps before (not recently, and seldom twice) who were one-level shed-builders, and you're doomed from the start. I've always found it fascinating that when there's an issue with a mix, most people's immediate reaction is to turn up, not down...even if it means turning five things up instead of one thing down...

And this also plays to the strengths of in-ears: if you can control the mix, and more importantly volume of what you're hearing as a player, then ear fatigue doesn't set in and lead to the 'I can't hear myself clearly, I'll juuuust turn up' volume wars. Since we dumped the backline, our control over our volume as a band has been much tighter.

For fake wear on fake fenders? Yeah, why not? 😀

At the end of the day it's simulated damage, and you could do that to a Status or a Steinberger; my point being it would seem odd on a non-vintage type of bass (tho ironically both makers have basses out there which are decades old), and so to me it seems odd to simulate decades of wear on a make/model of bass that couldn't possibly be that old... Mojo (aka real, actual wear) doesn't seem to be an issue with secondhand EBMMs, not so much with Rickys (possibly because they conceivably have a rep for being a little more, erm, fragile*), so yeah, it must be a manufacturers decision. I still smile at secondhand ads for reliced instruments that describe them as in 'Good cosmetic condition', tho... 😁 * Don't write in, Ricky owners...I'm thinking truss rods, binding and tail lift - they might be a real issues, they might just be rumours and falsehoods, either way, it's out there...

I could understand it more if amp manufacturers offered ripped tolex and cracked knobs (meticulously done and therefore at a huge premium, obviously) with their amps and cabs (especially the retro-looking ones), but it appears to be an overwhelmingly bass-centred phenomenon. I've never seen a factory-mauled Status or Steinberger, I think that's my point...

I'm at a total loss as to the mindset behind ageing something that's clearly a new make/model of bass, which, unless it's been very very badly abused, couldn't possibly look like that in a couple of years...I get someone might want to own something that's been faked to look like a decades-old old Fender/Gibson, etc, but a Sandberg? Pfffft...

If you want versatility, and the ability to have two different sounds set up and switchable instantly via two channels, then the Magellan's a no-brainer. It does a really, really good warm valve tone (at least as good as anything I've played that had yer actual preamp valves in it), and a very good quick, clean tone too. Lots of authority in each note: I really liked mine. I only sold it because the band I used it in (yep, lots of covers in lots of genres) moved to In-Ears and no backline...oh, and it'll run THREE 8 ohm cabs, should you ever feel the need... 😀

I use a drop D Tuner on all my basses, and I never have any tension issues for a song or two...and I like a higher tension string. If I played the whole time in full FCGD tuning, I'd look at it, but as I say I'm not precious about a couple of songs. I also have a Dingwall 4. 😀 On the OP's original topic, I've played it both ways (we play it a lot, people love it), and I like using the higher D...I think it sounds better in terms of the song's dynamics. And on the whole 'detuning' thing, one of the advantages of moving to modelling/FRFR/FOH/in-ears is that I have presets for a half-step or even a full step down without touching the bass...it's the future... 😁

There was a big generational change of power modules a couple of years ago, which IME changed the game: I've had more than a dozen Class D amps, and the newer power module design (in the Magellan, the Mesa Subways, the Darkglass 900, and several more) is a different beast entirely. It's worth bearing in mind.

NYXLs on two of my four main gigging basses (Shuker and Shukerbird)...Elixirs on the Dingwall (I didn't know the Super Long Scale NYXLs would fit), and D'Addario Half Rounds on the 'other' Shuker...an experiment which, if I'm honest, hasn't really worked; I think it needs NYXLs to bring it into line with the other two... I'm on record here as liking NYXLs a lot when I first tried them a while back, that's still the case and they're my go-to string, with the two exceptions above...

Dull, lifeless gig Satdy night in a pub with TVs...I watched the second half of the football, then in the second set, the Amir Khan fight...

Phew...me too...

You mean there's more than that? Jeeeeezzz.... It really was the worst kind of self-delusion I've come to expect of Metallica: I've genuinely heard toe-curling stuff at jam nights that was leagues better than that...

It wasn't great, was it? The vocals were indistinct (and Neil Finn, much as I love him, doesn't have the range, at least for that song), the guitars sounded underrehearsed and were all over each other, and as for the iconic bass part...sheesh, I've heard that done with much more brio by pub bands... On the upside, Mick looked (and sounded) like he was having a ball, Chris McVie looked liked she would've rather been anywhere else... Are they touring? If so, I've just saved myself probably £150... 😉

The worst mither I've had with shifting stuff is when I've listed furniture for free, on a strictly 'come and get it' basis. The numbers of chancers and idiots complaining because I wouldn't deliver: "But...but...I've got no transport" "Well, you haven't got two free sofas then, either..." 😕😀

You know there are people out there looking for exactly that PTTTHHHFFFFBBBBBBB tone? 😀

I knowwwww...I just reread that sentence and couldn't quite believe I'd written it. It's a slow Bank Holiday, after all... 😑

I don't mean to be dismissive, it's just it's been done an awful lot, on all sorts of threads whether they start off that way or not (and it's become quite snippy sometimes, too, as fanbois of all kidney clash antlers), and what it boils down to is every type of amp, whether it's all solid-state, or hybrid, or reverse-hybrid (by which I mean solid state tone stack and valve power) or full valve, will have its fans, and a lot of that will be dictated by personal GAS/brand loyalty (people who always wanted an Ampeg/Mesa/whatever), personal circumstances (size and weight for gigging, ageing backs, etc), folk who can really hear the difference and to whom it's very important, and of course good old implicit peer pressure, marketing and fashion. If there weren't people who like valve and hybrid kit, it wouldn't sell, but if you're thinking in any sort of commercial terms, this place is a microcosm of cork-sniffers (and I don't mean that in a negative sense: the level of technical knowledge, experience and, for want of a better word, connoisseur accessible here is very high indeed) and is dwarfed by the number of bassists out there who, for example, buy Ashdown (or Fender or Peavey or Markbass, etc...) because it's out there in the shops and on stages, and they can get a sound/volume out of it they like, without analysing it anywhere near as much as folk on here (and I'm including myself here) do. On the numbers font, I think in terms of a lot of the buying public, an 800w Class D amp LOOKS louder than a 200w valve amp, and that (along with the fact that the new 800w Class D output stages really deliver) is what sells. Similarly, with cabs, there's no NEED any more (see the FRFR-Killing-Rock-N-Roll-one-slipped-disc-at-a-time thread) for a big stack of 8x10s or 2x412s down the Fox and Gynecologist, and all the logistical hoohah that entails, but people still love the look and will do awhile yet.

I'm not sure what the rules to life are exactly, Blue, but it seems to me that you've won 😃 Oh, and extra points if you were driving yourself to gigs at 12... 😉

This is an emotive and subjective a topic as 'Jazz or Precision?' or even 'Rock or Jazz?', and as pointless as either. It's entirely down to what each person wants from an amp, what they can hear (or what they think they can hear) or not, and what they ultimately want to own. And let's not forget the cabs, too, which can colour the output of any amp...