The more and more i delve into coding, whether it be for work (C, Visual Basic) or for video games, (C++, UnrealScript, Source Entity Configs) the more and more i feel that i’m in the wrong field. Well... maybe not in the wrong field per-se, but i definitely LOVE coding. It’s such a rewarding challenge. I also love using 3-D software for modeling. But somehow i feel that it’s too late to just do it all over and go into video game development. Hopefully i can refine my skills on my free time and produce something worthwhile and make some money - maybe enough to go back and get a proper education.
I have no regrets of the path i have taken thus far, but sacrifices must be made. Right now i am doing 4 things: Working full time, Going to school part-time, developing a mod part time, trying to finish the band’s second album. Work takes up 40+ hours of my day, and definitely takes away from the time i can spend working on the other 3 at home. Unfortunately it’s my number 1 priority because without it i cannot support myself. Even though i currently live with my mom, i still need that job to pay for everything i have, and bills ect. I NEED to stop spending money if i want to pursue my goals.
School is great. I’m going towards my Electrical Engineering Tech. BS degree, and hopefully after that is done i can take the bridge program and get my Electrical Engineering Masters degree - that would be nice. But it requires money and time. Both of which I’m very short on. Maybe next semester i should start searching for classes sooner and i may be able to squeeze in 3 classes after work instead of just 2. Now I’m on a tight schedule as it is and i don't even have any homework.. Maybe that’s not such a good idea... but again i just need to sit down and think about it all - pros and cons - like an engineer.
As for developing the mod, this is where my passion right now lies. I didn't get off to a good start, but i have proved my worth thus far to the mod leader and he has given me credit for it. I need to learn the unreal engine better so i can get some decent work done. The better i am at using the tools, the more efficiently i can create content, and the better it will look. If we want this mod to be professional looking, i need to dedicate some serious time to learning how to map for unreal. The unfortunate thing about that is i need to also learn how to model better. Seeing as how unreal is amazingly efficient with rendering and lighting models, 90% of the world is such, and only 10% is BSP / terrain. Don has agreed to coach me through the modeling process which i appreciate but its still hard. Its a challenge, but a challenge i love tackling. I love creating, i love seeing my thoughts come to fruition. But i have felt such a creative block over the last year+ that just creating anything new is extremely difficult. I need to get one of those huge sketch pads and just sit and draw. I feel that once my ideas are on paper, everything will then come together... Hopefully.
Now about the band. There’s nothing i love more than spending time with the guys, or being on stage, or just writing a song that i love so much that i play it to myself until i fall asleep. But the older we all get(the guys in the band), the more i start to realize that the music industry is just a bunch of bullshit. And its tough thing to realize, but my dreams of touring the country with another band playing gigs and getting paid will probably never come true. Yes, we can all spend money on the album, promote it, sell it to our friends and family, but the simple fact of the matter is that unless some random music executive sees our shit and likes it than we’re not going anywhere, and after we sell the first 50 copies of the album, the rest are going to sit in my bedroom and collect dust; just like the first one we put out did. Granted, the first album is absolutely terrible, and we’re actually 4x better musically than we were 5 years ago, i still don't see us even having a remote shot at getting a record label. The chances drop off even more because we never practice. Singer is in florida still, and will probably stay there after he graduated. Bass and Drums are up here, but all 3 of us have jobs and rarely get the chance to practice - not to mention that the time we do get to practice i’m usually spending time with Courtney and then i have to make a choice between the two; band practice, or chill with the girlie. - which tears me apart. She understands but i know she wants to spend time with me.
Ugh
Another thing that makes juggling 4 different things hard is the fact that inspiration can strike anywhere, and for the most part, there’s no medium for me to express my ideas. I get ideas ALL THE TIME at work for game-play, map concepts, weapons, scripts, music, just general cool shit that i usually don't think about when actually creating those things. But i have a 6x8 notepad and a computer with very limited internet access so i can’t jot too many ideas down on paper, or even research further into the topic.Plus i’m at work and the whole reason for me being at work is to work. Imagine if my boss came into my cubicle and saw me drawing robots with guns on scrap paper. That's sure to bring me a raise. Speaking of robots with guns. I'm working on 2 mods at this point, but until Overlord gets back to me on compiling the Source code, that's not going anywhere..
Which brings me right back around to scripting. I love it. But i’d much rather be doing something else - like writing code that makes robots dissolve into little bits when shot at with a rocket launcher - or uranium-filled shotgun pellets. Yeah. That’ll be the day.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Guitars part 2
So. I take the box inside and immediately go grab my Leatherman; It has the sharpest knife I have on it and I also grabbed my iPhone4 to record me opening it.
I really didn't think the whole thing through in hindsight. The video was terribly shaky, and at one point, I placed the camera/phone on the table so I could have full use of my hands for a few seconds. It's ok, I'm not going for an Emmy. I used one hand to hold the camera and another hand to slice through the cardboard and tape. I also had to use that lonely hand open the box, remove the packing phone, and take the smaller box outside the bigger box. Why there was 2 boxes? I haven't a clue, but it is an expensive musical instrument, so I can look past it.
Anyway, I got the second box open and I revealed a beautiful white leather case. black on the ends with steel corners, the PRS signature obnoxiously displayed in the center of it all, and the 25th anniversary logo emblazoned in the corner.
It took my breath away; and it was just the case.
I open the locks one by one, the anticipation of playing the last guitar I'll ever own growing ever stronger with every unlocking snap.
When I finally lifted the case open, the only sound I could make was a short-winded gasp.
It was more beautiful than i could have ever dreamed.
Even though I stared at a picture of this guitar for a full month 8 hours a day at work before purchasing it, I was still stunned. The colors from the maple top danced in the soft yellow light. The paint lines transitioning from charcoal, to natural, to black, were all sharp and perfect. The knobs were as smooth as butter and the bird inlays on the fretboard, thanks to a new design, popped in almost a faux 3D manner.
I could go on for pages detailing every single square millimeter of this guitar's perfection and beauty, but I'll spare you all the minute details and just leave it at this:
My quest for the perfect guitar is now over.
Of course When I plugged it in, I had no idea what to play. I had so many options. What song is going to have the honor to grave the strings first? Well it's going to need tuning first. By the time i had it tuned, i dropped the whole "what am i going to play" act and just started exploring.
It took me a great while to get the 'feel' of it. While it felt amazing for that first instance, I didn't know it yet.
Imagine getting a brand new Ferrari; Yes, it'll drive like nothing else you've ever driven before, and will be amazing right from the get-go. But to really drive that car to its full potential, you have to KNOW it. How it brakes, how sensitive the steering is, how many lateral G's you can pull before your tires lose traction.
Same deal with a guitar.
The fretboard has a constant, perfect, curve to it, but the back has an ever changing profile to it. I can't rest my hand on the bridge like i usually do, because it bends the tremolo-bridge back ever so slightly and puts more tension on the strings, de-tuning it slightly. I make a mental note to watch out for that in the future and i continue my expedition.
About a month later I can comfortably say that i have made that guitar my own, and picking it up and playing it is just like controlling any other part of my body. I am one with that guitar.
I really didn't think the whole thing through in hindsight. The video was terribly shaky, and at one point, I placed the camera/phone on the table so I could have full use of my hands for a few seconds. It's ok, I'm not going for an Emmy. I used one hand to hold the camera and another hand to slice through the cardboard and tape. I also had to use that lonely hand open the box, remove the packing phone, and take the smaller box outside the bigger box. Why there was 2 boxes? I haven't a clue, but it is an expensive musical instrument, so I can look past it.
Anyway, I got the second box open and I revealed a beautiful white leather case. black on the ends with steel corners, the PRS signature obnoxiously displayed in the center of it all, and the 25th anniversary logo emblazoned in the corner.
It took my breath away; and it was just the case.
I open the locks one by one, the anticipation of playing the last guitar I'll ever own growing ever stronger with every unlocking snap.
When I finally lifted the case open, the only sound I could make was a short-winded gasp.
It was more beautiful than i could have ever dreamed.
Even though I stared at a picture of this guitar for a full month 8 hours a day at work before purchasing it, I was still stunned. The colors from the maple top danced in the soft yellow light. The paint lines transitioning from charcoal, to natural, to black, were all sharp and perfect. The knobs were as smooth as butter and the bird inlays on the fretboard, thanks to a new design, popped in almost a faux 3D manner.
I could go on for pages detailing every single square millimeter of this guitar's perfection and beauty, but I'll spare you all the minute details and just leave it at this:
My quest for the perfect guitar is now over.
Of course When I plugged it in, I had no idea what to play. I had so many options. What song is going to have the honor to grave the strings first? Well it's going to need tuning first. By the time i had it tuned, i dropped the whole "what am i going to play" act and just started exploring.
It took me a great while to get the 'feel' of it. While it felt amazing for that first instance, I didn't know it yet.
Imagine getting a brand new Ferrari; Yes, it'll drive like nothing else you've ever driven before, and will be amazing right from the get-go. But to really drive that car to its full potential, you have to KNOW it. How it brakes, how sensitive the steering is, how many lateral G's you can pull before your tires lose traction.
Same deal with a guitar.
The fretboard has a constant, perfect, curve to it, but the back has an ever changing profile to it. I can't rest my hand on the bridge like i usually do, because it bends the tremolo-bridge back ever so slightly and puts more tension on the strings, de-tuning it slightly. I make a mental note to watch out for that in the future and i continue my expedition.
About a month later I can comfortably say that i have made that guitar my own, and picking it up and playing it is just like controlling any other part of my body. I am one with that guitar.
Monday, November 29, 2010
It's Been a While / Guitars part 1
I've been reading quite a few blogs recently. Notably Hyperbole and a half, My girls' blog, My best friend's blog, and quite a few others i've stumbled upon.
I'm not looking to get a million views or followers, or to have this become my job and get paid for it, but I am looking to get my thoughts out on electronic paper. And if people wish, they can read and comment.
So my last post was way back in 2008; and wow did it suck; Talk about lack of content.
So anyway, the topic about this blog is emotion, and how my new guitar is essentially a gateway into my soul. I've been playing guitar since I was 14 - about 8 years now. I've had many different types of guitars. My first, a Strat knock-off, a Kramer Focus. Came with a 15W solid-state amp and that was the guitar that I learned most of my chords on. It was the guitar I played in my first band (Death by lampshade - google it, the freewebs site might still be up) Soon after I wanted to upgrade to bigger and better. My second band then, as it is currently, is a hard rock band. So I wanted to have something aggressive looking, was easy to play, but had a mean sound as well. Naturally, the dude at Guitar Center sold me a Jackson. That thing was sweet. It was the first guitar i purchased for myself. It's red, had beautiful white abalone triangle inlays, and the headstock looked like it could puncture someone's lung if thrust upon them. Mean it was.
I brought that guitar home and immediately started playing it. My brother shot out a comment along the lines of "Just because you have a better guitar doesn't mean you can play any better". Which he's 100% correct, but I just dismissed him with a "shut up" and kept on playing. Brotherly love, it's tough love, but it's there.
My mom was mad that I spent $500 on a new instrument when I had a "perfectly good one" already. Yes, true, the Kramer is perfectly capable of producing an electric signal to be amplified and broadcast as music through speakers, but at the same time, it lacks the bite of the Jackson's pickups, the fierce red finish, the extra 2 frets allowing for an extended range; the list goes on.
It's the subtleties of one's craft that can make explaining yourself to an unenlightened individual near impossible. And if you do, you just might come across as crazy.
Shortly after the Jackson joined my family, I went out on the hunt for a new acoustic. I had one already, kindly gifted to me by my father, but again - that one didn't have the upper range, or the playability of this new one. Plus I couldn't plug it in for live acoustic shows. The new acoustic is a 3/4 body black Ibanez Electric/Acoustic guitar. It was the first one that drew my eye at G.C., it was the first one I played there, and it was the one I took home with me. PLUS I got it for 50% off! Can't beat that. And it's currently the only guitar I own that has a name. It takes a lot of time, and I need to be in the right mood to assign a name to anything I own. Only when that special connection has been established does the name come to me.
My 5th guitar was an object of infatuation that eventually became mine. The boys (the band) and I were at a guitar center in Orlando, Florida. We all walked inside admiring the rows upon rows of guitars hanging on the walls, the drums stacked in the corner, the amps all lined up in rows - grouped by price and awesomeness. But there, above all else, in the center of everything was a guitar. An ocean blue beauty with a glistening vine crawling all the way up the fretboard. It was a Schecter C1-Classic. I was petrified with lust. When I finally mustered up the courage to grab it and start playing, I immediately fell in love. There were 3 strips of solid maple that ran all the way down the guitar through the neck and into the body. Everything on it was just plain beautiful. The transition between body and neck was flawless, the way your hand fit right into the notch at the headstock of the guitar was unlike anything I've experienced. The intricacy of the "vine of life" inlays was mystifying. The tone was beautiful too.
Unfortunately, at the time I could not afford to purchase it, and had to put it back.
Thus began the 8 month long infatuation including everything from desktop wallpapers to hours of reading about the artists who played Schecters. I even sent an email to the custom shop asking how much an emerald green version with "Chaos" spelled outon the fretboard in "old English" font would cost. Turns out it's about $3,000 more than I expected, and even at the expected price, it was at least twice as much as I can afford.
But the day finally came when I had my credit card and I just happened to be at guitar center, and there in almost the same spot (granted this was a different store) was that very same guitar. I played it for almost an hour before deciding to buy it. I talked the salesman down a few hundred dollars, got him to throw in a case for free after I agreed to purchase a warranty for it.
I come home that night to the same welcome I experienced when I purchased my Jackson; My mother wondering what's so much better about this one than the 4 guitars I already have. My brother, again, insisting that I'm not a better guitarist because i have a better guitar. Deep in my heart I knew they were both wrong though. The second day I had it however, the low D string kept falling off the bridge saddle when I was playing it. (It's the low E string tuned to d) I went downstairs with the guitar around my neck and found the first metal file I could find. I filed the saddle down a bit to provide a deeper notch for the string to sit in, and when I went to put the guitar back on around my neck, the strap knocked the file right out of my hand and into the edge of the body, putting a 2mm deep scar into my new baby.
I was so heartbroken by my own carelessness that I sat down and cried.
I still have not forgiven myself for that. The nick aside, I would often just stare at it hanging on my wall admiring its beauty.
The Schecter Served me well for many years.
Early this year I bought myself a new Amp. It's my first all Tube amp, a behemoth 70 pounder, two 12" speakers being driven with 120watts of pure analog power. For being an amp geared towards the metal genre, it has an incredibly bright clean tone. Because I had this sparkling clean tone instead of an always over-driven sorry excuse for a clean tone, I actually started toning down the distortion. After finding out there's more to guitar than great distortion and solos, I started diving into the softer, mellower music. I set out on the quest for tone.
Due to this new quest, I started encountering the limitations of the Schecter. It doesn't have the full-bodied resonance of a Les-Paul. Nor does it sparkle and twang like a Strat. (Granted I'm not a huge fan of Fenders in general, but some artists get Phenomenal tone from Fenders that I can't help but fall in love with. And the Kramer Focus doesn't come close either.) I can get a beautiful, crisp tone in the fourth switch position on the Schecter if I roll the volume down a bit. The top position doesn't quite sing like I think it should, and the middle and second positions don't seem to fit in anywhere in my grand scheme of things. The first position is great for distortion - it has the bite and treble necessary. But through a clean channel, it's way too thin of an output. The Schecter tone knob is more of an on-off switch than a pot. The upper range of the knob has little to no affect on the tone, and at around 80% the falloff is so steep that it's near impossible to find a happy medium that's not Full bass, or full treble.
As much as I love that guitar. It was time for an upgrade, and it was a sad day when i figured it out, as I have spent many many hours with that guitar, and haven't given it a name. I wanted to, but nothing seemed to fit. To me, it was, and shall remain "The Schec". (Pronounced 'shek')
It was after this moment that I started researching PRS guitars. I knew Ben Burnley from Breaking Benjamin played one, Carlos Santana, Davy Knowles, the dude From Little Feat also played them. So many respected artists owned one that the guitars seemed out of my league. The PRS 513 came up in my research and as soon as I saw it I knew I needed to have it. 5 pickups, TWO toggle switches, 15 possible pickup positions and a slew of different sounds could be at my fingertips. I needed it. Now.
I set my sights on the 513 Swamp ash. A beautiful all natural finish, showing off every ounce of perfect detail within the wood. Days became weeks became months, and The fire was re-ignited when I was at guitar center with a friend and I asked the guy behind the desk if I could play a 513. Well, he sold it the day before, and they only keep one in stock, but I can play any other PRS I wanted. So I opted for the the Custom 24, the bread and butter, if you will of PRS.
"Too light" I thought to myself when I first grabbed it from the employee's hands. It's a beautiful emerald green color, in fact, my favorite shade of green, but I still wasn't impressed. I played that guitar for a good 45 minutes. The tone was great, it was everything I came to expect from a PRS, but something about it just felt wrong. I was not getting good vibes from the guitar at all. The best way I can describe it, is that it felt as though I should not have been holding it, let along playing it.
I traded that C-24 for a Santana model. And nearly the same feeling came to me. I only played it for a few more minutes when I told the guy that it doesn't feel right, and I really wish I could play a 513. The guy told me to hold on a second while he consulted his manager. I was confused, nervous and excited all at the same time.
Shortly after, the guy came out wielding none other than a 25th anniversary edition, PRS 513 ina beautiful color I later found out to be "Smoked Black Slate": A magnificent blend of black, gray, and a hint of aqua blue.
I'm pretty sure I squealed with glee. Maybe.
The guy instructed me to take off my watch and ring, basically anything that could possibly scratch it because the guitar officially isn't "theirs" because it has been sold and it's currently on lay-away. But he could tell I was serious about PRS guitars, and the guys at guitar center are AWESOME, so he let me play it. And he watched me like a hawk while doing so.
The moment I touched the guitar it felt right. I managed to mutter "Oh my god, thanks man." to the guy right before I melted. The 513 felt so familiar and perfect, it was almost as if I had already owned it for many years. It was heavier than the Custom 24, but still lighter than almost ever other guitar out there. I knew I had to have one. And I didn't even play it yet. Every second I was messing with the knobs and switches just solidified the fact that someday in the future, I will own this guitar.
I went home that day and played my Schecter like I would never see it ever again. I played almost every song I knew, and then after that, just kept playing and playing until I lost the will to do anything. I hung it up, sat in my computer chair and stared at it for another 5 minutes.
I can say that the 513 Guitar Center experience had motivated me to fine tune my Schecter to get every possible bit of pure-sounding tone I could possibly extract out of that guitar. I applied what I had learned to the new album the band was recording - all the while thinking how much better it could sound with the 513 (which is SO wrong, and I felt incredibly guilty for not appreciating the instrument that I had).
Months after that, I got a full-time job at an Engineering Place, and finally had a decent, steady incoming cash flow. I set my sights on saving for the 513, and the MINUTE I could afford it, I jumped online and ordered it.
6 Days later i'm pacing back and forth at my house after coming home from a long work day and after what seemed like eternity the UPS guy shows up with a giant box. WAY bigger than i expected it to be, but I knew what was in there. I could barely contain my excitement, but I still stood and chatted with the delivery guy. He coached my little-league baseball team when I played as a kid, and he's a close family friend. We know each other well. After telling him what was in the box and how excited I was for it, and listening to his own guitar buying experience, we parted. Him back to the truck, and on to the rest of his workday, me on to unwrapping the last guitar I'll ever need to buy.
Part 2 to come.
I'm not looking to get a million views or followers, or to have this become my job and get paid for it, but I am looking to get my thoughts out on electronic paper. And if people wish, they can read and comment.
So my last post was way back in 2008; and wow did it suck; Talk about lack of content.
So anyway, the topic about this blog is emotion, and how my new guitar is essentially a gateway into my soul. I've been playing guitar since I was 14 - about 8 years now. I've had many different types of guitars. My first, a Strat knock-off, a Kramer Focus. Came with a 15W solid-state amp and that was the guitar that I learned most of my chords on. It was the guitar I played in my first band (Death by lampshade - google it, the freewebs site might still be up) Soon after I wanted to upgrade to bigger and better. My second band then, as it is currently, is a hard rock band. So I wanted to have something aggressive looking, was easy to play, but had a mean sound as well. Naturally, the dude at Guitar Center sold me a Jackson. That thing was sweet. It was the first guitar i purchased for myself. It's red, had beautiful white abalone triangle inlays, and the headstock looked like it could puncture someone's lung if thrust upon them. Mean it was.
I brought that guitar home and immediately started playing it. My brother shot out a comment along the lines of "Just because you have a better guitar doesn't mean you can play any better". Which he's 100% correct, but I just dismissed him with a "shut up" and kept on playing. Brotherly love, it's tough love, but it's there.
My mom was mad that I spent $500 on a new instrument when I had a "perfectly good one" already. Yes, true, the Kramer is perfectly capable of producing an electric signal to be amplified and broadcast as music through speakers, but at the same time, it lacks the bite of the Jackson's pickups, the fierce red finish, the extra 2 frets allowing for an extended range; the list goes on.
It's the subtleties of one's craft that can make explaining yourself to an unenlightened individual near impossible. And if you do, you just might come across as crazy.
Shortly after the Jackson joined my family, I went out on the hunt for a new acoustic. I had one already, kindly gifted to me by my father, but again - that one didn't have the upper range, or the playability of this new one. Plus I couldn't plug it in for live acoustic shows. The new acoustic is a 3/4 body black Ibanez Electric/Acoustic guitar. It was the first one that drew my eye at G.C., it was the first one I played there, and it was the one I took home with me. PLUS I got it for 50% off! Can't beat that. And it's currently the only guitar I own that has a name. It takes a lot of time, and I need to be in the right mood to assign a name to anything I own. Only when that special connection has been established does the name come to me.
My 5th guitar was an object of infatuation that eventually became mine. The boys (the band) and I were at a guitar center in Orlando, Florida. We all walked inside admiring the rows upon rows of guitars hanging on the walls, the drums stacked in the corner, the amps all lined up in rows - grouped by price and awesomeness. But there, above all else, in the center of everything was a guitar. An ocean blue beauty with a glistening vine crawling all the way up the fretboard. It was a Schecter C1-Classic. I was petrified with lust. When I finally mustered up the courage to grab it and start playing, I immediately fell in love. There were 3 strips of solid maple that ran all the way down the guitar through the neck and into the body. Everything on it was just plain beautiful. The transition between body and neck was flawless, the way your hand fit right into the notch at the headstock of the guitar was unlike anything I've experienced. The intricacy of the "vine of life" inlays was mystifying. The tone was beautiful too.
Unfortunately, at the time I could not afford to purchase it, and had to put it back.
Thus began the 8 month long infatuation including everything from desktop wallpapers to hours of reading about the artists who played Schecters. I even sent an email to the custom shop asking how much an emerald green version with "Chaos" spelled outon the fretboard in "old English" font would cost. Turns out it's about $3,000 more than I expected, and even at the expected price, it was at least twice as much as I can afford.
But the day finally came when I had my credit card and I just happened to be at guitar center, and there in almost the same spot (granted this was a different store) was that very same guitar. I played it for almost an hour before deciding to buy it. I talked the salesman down a few hundred dollars, got him to throw in a case for free after I agreed to purchase a warranty for it.
I come home that night to the same welcome I experienced when I purchased my Jackson; My mother wondering what's so much better about this one than the 4 guitars I already have. My brother, again, insisting that I'm not a better guitarist because i have a better guitar. Deep in my heart I knew they were both wrong though. The second day I had it however, the low D string kept falling off the bridge saddle when I was playing it. (It's the low E string tuned to d) I went downstairs with the guitar around my neck and found the first metal file I could find. I filed the saddle down a bit to provide a deeper notch for the string to sit in, and when I went to put the guitar back on around my neck, the strap knocked the file right out of my hand and into the edge of the body, putting a 2mm deep scar into my new baby.
I was so heartbroken by my own carelessness that I sat down and cried.
I still have not forgiven myself for that. The nick aside, I would often just stare at it hanging on my wall admiring its beauty.
The Schecter Served me well for many years.
Early this year I bought myself a new Amp. It's my first all Tube amp, a behemoth 70 pounder, two 12" speakers being driven with 120watts of pure analog power. For being an amp geared towards the metal genre, it has an incredibly bright clean tone. Because I had this sparkling clean tone instead of an always over-driven sorry excuse for a clean tone, I actually started toning down the distortion. After finding out there's more to guitar than great distortion and solos, I started diving into the softer, mellower music. I set out on the quest for tone.
Due to this new quest, I started encountering the limitations of the Schecter. It doesn't have the full-bodied resonance of a Les-Paul. Nor does it sparkle and twang like a Strat. (Granted I'm not a huge fan of Fenders in general, but some artists get Phenomenal tone from Fenders that I can't help but fall in love with. And the Kramer Focus doesn't come close either.) I can get a beautiful, crisp tone in the fourth switch position on the Schecter if I roll the volume down a bit. The top position doesn't quite sing like I think it should, and the middle and second positions don't seem to fit in anywhere in my grand scheme of things. The first position is great for distortion - it has the bite and treble necessary. But through a clean channel, it's way too thin of an output. The Schecter tone knob is more of an on-off switch than a pot. The upper range of the knob has little to no affect on the tone, and at around 80% the falloff is so steep that it's near impossible to find a happy medium that's not Full bass, or full treble.
As much as I love that guitar. It was time for an upgrade, and it was a sad day when i figured it out, as I have spent many many hours with that guitar, and haven't given it a name. I wanted to, but nothing seemed to fit. To me, it was, and shall remain "The Schec". (Pronounced 'shek')
It was after this moment that I started researching PRS guitars. I knew Ben Burnley from Breaking Benjamin played one, Carlos Santana, Davy Knowles, the dude From Little Feat also played them. So many respected artists owned one that the guitars seemed out of my league. The PRS 513 came up in my research and as soon as I saw it I knew I needed to have it. 5 pickups, TWO toggle switches, 15 possible pickup positions and a slew of different sounds could be at my fingertips. I needed it. Now.
I set my sights on the 513 Swamp ash. A beautiful all natural finish, showing off every ounce of perfect detail within the wood. Days became weeks became months, and The fire was re-ignited when I was at guitar center with a friend and I asked the guy behind the desk if I could play a 513. Well, he sold it the day before, and they only keep one in stock, but I can play any other PRS I wanted. So I opted for the the Custom 24, the bread and butter, if you will of PRS.
"Too light" I thought to myself when I first grabbed it from the employee's hands. It's a beautiful emerald green color, in fact, my favorite shade of green, but I still wasn't impressed. I played that guitar for a good 45 minutes. The tone was great, it was everything I came to expect from a PRS, but something about it just felt wrong. I was not getting good vibes from the guitar at all. The best way I can describe it, is that it felt as though I should not have been holding it, let along playing it.
I traded that C-24 for a Santana model. And nearly the same feeling came to me. I only played it for a few more minutes when I told the guy that it doesn't feel right, and I really wish I could play a 513. The guy told me to hold on a second while he consulted his manager. I was confused, nervous and excited all at the same time.
Shortly after, the guy came out wielding none other than a 25th anniversary edition, PRS 513 ina beautiful color I later found out to be "Smoked Black Slate": A magnificent blend of black, gray, and a hint of aqua blue.
I'm pretty sure I squealed with glee. Maybe.
The guy instructed me to take off my watch and ring, basically anything that could possibly scratch it because the guitar officially isn't "theirs" because it has been sold and it's currently on lay-away. But he could tell I was serious about PRS guitars, and the guys at guitar center are AWESOME, so he let me play it. And he watched me like a hawk while doing so.
The moment I touched the guitar it felt right. I managed to mutter "Oh my god, thanks man." to the guy right before I melted. The 513 felt so familiar and perfect, it was almost as if I had already owned it for many years. It was heavier than the Custom 24, but still lighter than almost ever other guitar out there. I knew I had to have one. And I didn't even play it yet. Every second I was messing with the knobs and switches just solidified the fact that someday in the future, I will own this guitar.
I went home that day and played my Schecter like I would never see it ever again. I played almost every song I knew, and then after that, just kept playing and playing until I lost the will to do anything. I hung it up, sat in my computer chair and stared at it for another 5 minutes.
I can say that the 513 Guitar Center experience had motivated me to fine tune my Schecter to get every possible bit of pure-sounding tone I could possibly extract out of that guitar. I applied what I had learned to the new album the band was recording - all the while thinking how much better it could sound with the 513 (which is SO wrong, and I felt incredibly guilty for not appreciating the instrument that I had).
Months after that, I got a full-time job at an Engineering Place, and finally had a decent, steady incoming cash flow. I set my sights on saving for the 513, and the MINUTE I could afford it, I jumped online and ordered it.
6 Days later i'm pacing back and forth at my house after coming home from a long work day and after what seemed like eternity the UPS guy shows up with a giant box. WAY bigger than i expected it to be, but I knew what was in there. I could barely contain my excitement, but I still stood and chatted with the delivery guy. He coached my little-league baseball team when I played as a kid, and he's a close family friend. We know each other well. After telling him what was in the box and how excited I was for it, and listening to his own guitar buying experience, we parted. Him back to the truck, and on to the rest of his workday, me on to unwrapping the last guitar I'll ever need to buy.
Part 2 to come.
Monday, April 21, 2008
So I have a blog now.
Basically, I can't wait until summer. Few reasons why.
First off, school's out (how childish is that) second, the boys will be back together, third, we have a show in under a month, forth, it's summer, fifth, i get to play some baseball, sixth, it's summer - c-mon, seventh, I won't be freezing up here in Connecticut anymore, eighth, i'm going to mexico in august.
Ok so that was more than a few, but you can understand why i cannot wait.
First off, school's out (how childish is that) second, the boys will be back together, third, we have a show in under a month, forth, it's summer, fifth, i get to play some baseball, sixth, it's summer - c-mon, seventh, I won't be freezing up here in Connecticut anymore, eighth, i'm going to mexico in august.
Ok so that was more than a few, but you can understand why i cannot wait.
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