HIROSHIMA JAZZ
OK, OK, I admit it. My present penchant for purchasing pricey musical paraphernalia is not because each instrument ’sounds different’ and is thus necessary for the arsenal, so to speak. No, it’s just another manifestation of what doctors of the mind call “middle-aged loser git anal collecting syndrome“.
Now you might think that buying shitloads of guitars is somewhat cooler than trainspotting in that the instruments of rock are intrinsically far less anorak, but consider this: trainspotting is at least a cheap option. Aforementioned rainproof clothing item, notebook, biro, horrible hairstyle and you’re ready to go. Alright, those thick glasses might set you back a bit, but it’s still going to be cheaper than the $8,000 plus I’ve forked out over the last year for musical bits ‘n’ pieces.
Here’s the latest addition to the ardle collection, grabbed today from the Yamaha store:
Yep, it’s the Fender Jazz I’ve had my eye on for a while. Varnished maple fretboard and gorgeous amber transparent finish to the body - what a stunner!
Now all this acquisition of gear with ‘jazz‘ in the title by no means corresponds to a shift on behalf of your narrator into the beardy world of free improvisation and beats you can’t dance to, oh no. It’s just that Fender totally misnamed their instruments. The Jazzmaster guitar I bought last week in Osaka eneded up being the axe of choice for grungers and alt.rock stars the world over, and likewise, the Jazz bass is actually a brighter and punchier beast that its ostensibly rockier counterpart the Precision.
So no, I won’t be sucking on cheroots in dark basements, I will be ploughing the post-punk furrow as earnestly as I ever did.
And yes, this little purchase does mark the end of the line as far as acquiring new instruments goes.
Until I see something else that is ‘vital’ to my sound, that is…
Would you stop mickeying around with that Apple software to give the impression that you’re a lefty bassist? C’mon, that is downright cheezy. Now, onto more meatier topics:
Don’t you just pity the fine looking Japanese porn mistress who has an exquisite body, not a blemish on it. And a fine pair of meat tulips below that are just heavenly shaped for to be nibbling after? And don’t you just pity these cumrobot flowerpots because for the tasty naughty porn shoots they have to pair with the saddest looking fucks this side of Norway. I mean, dude, get some decent looking fishing tackle. It’s amazing. Doughy pot bellied salarycluster fucks throwing down on that fine tuned musty quim, a veritable festival of sardine umbrellas, and all they can bring to the gig is this sad mishapen purple swollen mushroom headed stubby cock! It is a sad sad sad state of affairs. If I didn’t enjoy teaching English conversation so much, I might try my hand as a stallion on some of those porn sets. I’d make em’ bark. I’d make em’ squeal just like Jimmy (!) who according to his own account shagged forty five Japanese women on the bonnet of his Ferrari one night outside of Yeast Kulcha! Don’t believe him? Well…..the Ferrari is is is at his uncle’s house in in in in Hokaido! He drives it down here on weekends for Jimmy to use. That’s why you never see it! So, there…
Comment by beneatonarse — 13 May, 2008 @ 11:59 am