The Bass Geek

The day itself was spent collecting the requisite souvenirs and such from various locations (and wasting some time watching a lackluster Steelers game).  After obtaining the necessary cultural detritus, including a sizable number of snuff bottles (they were on sale), we absconded for pizza and the start of our musical adventures.  Even though there wasn’t anything live at One Eyed Jacks, it was still worth the stop to hear a jukebox that featured Betty Davis, Dio, Turbonegro and Funkadelic.  The red velvet wallpaper and black velvet nudes complemented the place well.

From there, we took in some more Kermit Ruffin at the Blue Nile.  Tight funk and jazz band - well worth a second viewing.  While my wife didn’t pass out early or anything, there was evidently something in the vodka and tonics that promoted zombification.  Not in a drooling roofie sort of way, but in a clawing, constant-demanding-for-brains sort of way.  You have to be careful with such things in this town, but luckily we managed to escape without incident.

Also, Jennifer thinks she might have run into Keith Urban, in all of his tiny, spa-enhanced glory.  So, there you go.  Thank you for that, Sugar Bowl.

We’re trying to decide now what to do with New Year’s Eve - Morning 40 Federation at One Eyed Jacks, Dumpstaphunk and Porter/Batiste/Stoltz at Howlin’ Wolf’s, or the celebration downtown.  Comments? 

As far as trick plays in football go, the fake punt doesn’t rate very high on the flashy scale. Triple reverses, modified fleaflickers, Boise State’s Statue of Liberty play, and the like all carry more visual excitement, more drama, more zazz. But I humbly submit here that a successful fake punt both emboldens the team who pulls it off and irrevocably crushes the one that suffers the indignity.Sure, it’s probably only a few yards and a first down. But it represents a renewal, a refreshing dash of hope, possibly even the hint of resurrection. Sure, it may look as if you were giving up and heading back to the bench to conduct a post-mortem on the drive’s proceedings. Yet, that glimmer of hope in Coach’s eye wasn’t ready to dim just yet. “Head back in there. Give it one more shot.” And it paid off. All is right again.And just as happy as you are now, the other team is crushed. Demoralized. Perhaps considering a career change. They gave it their best, their all, their everything. And as successful as they appeared then, along comes some lowly frickin’ punter to muck the whole thing up. “Great,” they think. “Now the punter thinks he can pass (or run).” And pass (or run) he does. And then he celebrates in whatever weird and off-putting manner punters celebrate - maybe a spastic twitch or something. They’re not used to celebrating like that, so it’s unfamiliar and a little scary. Still, they’re celebrating, and you’re not. Back to the trenches, as Coach yells “Think maybe you can stop the PUNTER from throwing next time?!”And so, here’s to you, Daniel Sepulveda - congratulations on your 32-yard fake punt pass last night. How does it feel to break the spirit of 53 men simultaneously?

Yes, that’s a snapshot of my Second Life avatar playing bass while flying over a Japanese garden. So what? There’s so much bass in my first life that I needed to create a second one just to handle it all.

I was searching for a bass with a Pittsburgh Steelers paint job as the correct prelude to this Sunday’s Pittsburgh/New England game, but there just wasn’t one available on the Internet. And I don’t have the money or inclination to produce one myself or have it done. I’ve got no qualms drilling into a perfectly good new bass to install a MIDI pickup or have a little wood carved out for a new active pickup. There may even be a replacement graphite neck on the Stingray soon - I’ve always liked the sound, but I’m having issues with the neck moving, and the truss rod has nearly been tweaked to its limit. But a new paint job just doesn’t sound that appealing. The others are matters of function, not form.

Oh, well. Enjoy the weekend, and try to avoid contacting me around 4pm this Sunday. I’ll probably be yelling a lot.

Between the late night with the Playboy Psychonauts and the Steelers’ victory over the Bengals last night, I’m a little tired. But I keep my promises (and I’m bored at lunch), so here’s the non-techie side of the IMN Podcast.

The whole thing originates from the top 10 list IMN Editor Steve Hayes puts together each week for the site - he takes votes from the local cognoscenti and compiles the list, adding editorial content along the way. We then take that list, add the IMN OnTrack artist at the end, and we have a script for the podcast.

Obviously, we don’t script every word, but the list gives us a defined guide as to where the show is going, and it keeps us on track in case we start to ramble a bit. I can’t emphasize enough how important this is - it’s easy to get bogged down if you don’t have a plan. We record straight through, with slight pauses where I’m going to insert music later (we only take tracks from those artists who make them available for free, and this averages about five songs per podcasts). I edit in the tracks later.

We also have kind of a standard intro and closing we run through - nothing fancy, but it still lends a familiarity to the show.

To be honest, I’m not sure how many listeners we have at any one time. Not only does the podcast download-able, but it’s also in the IMN Flash player on the main site and played on low-power Purdue student radio. We’re not Adam-Curry-level by any means, but we do okay.

And that’s the story. We’ll occasionally have guests on, but usually this is what you get. We record in a variety of secret locations, just to keep the riff-raff out.

Before anything else, I can’t believe I just witnessed the Steelers win 3-0 on a field goal late in the 4th.  Against Miami.  A win’s a win, but I screamed.  A lot.  Please make it easier on me next time.

So anyway, I was talking with somebody at work today whose young son was taking bass lessons.  He asked a few questions about the instrument that I thought might help other newcomers.  First, he mentioned that he had a good teacher, and that’s always a good thing.  I benefitted from a couple of great teachers, but I spent some other years without one, and I think that might have been a bigger benefit if one was around.  As it was, I had to spend a lot more time digging in books and recordings (which is also beneficial), but a guide is always helpful. Just in case you’re wondering, I didn’t mention that he should take lessons from me, but I did drop the book’s name more than a few times.

Second, he mentioned that he didn’t think bass was a solo instrument.  I quickly referred him to Seth Horan as a starting point to jump off from there.

Third, he mentioned that his son was taking cello and wanted to know if he should take keyboard. I answered “Absolutely.” Any kind of musical knowledge will help, and especially keyboard - harmony concepts are easily laid out on the keyboard, so it’s a valuable tool. There’s a reason students are forced to take it.

He asked what bassists I recommended, so I gave him the usual list.

Finally, he mentioned the teacher was doing a good job of teaching and keeping it fun. That’s a great job there - it can be a hard thing to balance, and any teacher that manages it is a great educator.

Buying my book still wouldn’t be a bad idea, though.