I have a bass that I hate, sure.
Why? …
Because it’s a Rickenbacker.
I’ve always hated Rickenbackers. Which makes it so unlikely and funny that I own one now … A 1976 4001 so, ironically, it’s valuable enough to pay for the bass of my dreams.
However … it’s a family heirloom that I would never sell. This was my uncle’s bass that he played prolifically since ‘77, til only last year when he passed away. It was me who inherited the bass from him.
First-World problems ‘n’ that, sure … but it looks like I’m stuck with this thing. Albeit in the most drole and light hearted way, it’s a daily challenge to me, such is both my historical prejudice and realtime frustration.
That said… having had it a couple of months now, and having played it a lot (despite how confrontational it is to my tastes). I’ll admit to finding a trace of affection for it by now. This is laced with an equal trace of guilt and shame however. It doesn’t quite leave me feeling dirty. Just a bit perplexed.
I’ll persevere though. I’ll make it my task to love this bass, one way or another.
It’s a funny old life.