Something About Nothing
I need a re-joint. Before, there was disjointedness. Then, jointing. Now, not so much on the jointed.
I'd been planning to take all of my recording gear over to Brian's place this week into this weekend, but there was an ice storm, and gigundous trucks were going sideways and decimating automobiles one-quarter their size, and I couldn't work up the interest or heroism or profound lack of smarts to get it all together and drive over there and set everything up. I found a really nice room in Brian's house, where the acoustics are quite good and the walls are non-parallel and things sound sooper in there. But the room is unfortunately adjoining the kitchen, and the fridge is really loud, and I don't have the heart to crawl back there and unplug it and make all of the stuff inside die and spoil Brian and his wife's day when they come home and they find that their Philadelphia Cream Cheese has gone bad (if they in fact have any; I didn't look). Plus, I couldn't find the plug.
It's really more than I want to deal with at the moment.
There was loss at the offices of the Very Large Corporation at which I work this week. I've been through I can't tell you how many of these things (I really can't), and they all simultaneously suck and blow. It is, in fact, possible. I have felt so incredibly numb to this stuff for the last year or so. It's difficult to explain. It's probably low-level shock and depression. Everyone I talk to who is still here (yes, I am) feels roughly same-same. We all more or less expect the carnage to continue in the coming months, but no one wants to talk about it. Including me.
Let me speak to you about bullshit. Ah yes, let us wallow in our own filth.
Last night I set up my mics in my living room - my terribly dead living room, into which even the most piercing, murderous shrieks from a bullhorn dissipate silently into the carpeting - and I set up my mixer and recordy bits, and I brought out my acoustic amp (oxymoron), my infrequently-used loudifier, to try something my friend Mike (not me, the other one) recommended. I turned my new AKG c4000b mic on ominidirectional pattern and ran my guitar into the amp, set at about a quarter gain and with a tiny bit of reverb, and then I ran out from my amp into my Boss RV-3 pedal, split the output into channels 3,4 of my mixer. So now when I play, I'm micing the guitar with two condensers (the other is a c2000b), which go into channels 1,2, panned hard left and right, and the guitar's electronics are going in channels 3,4, at a very low level, being there only for a little bit of body. And the c4000b condenser is picking up a low output from the amp, which is about six feet away. And despite the fact that my living room sounds like an armpit and is at present about as well kept as your average shoulder under-joint, the resultant sound sounds like a room, and it sounds pretty darn nice, and I would say it sounds as good or maybe even a little better than the sound I got in Baltimore, which is probably mostly due to the new mic, which is pretty durn nice, too, actually, for real. Good idea, Other Mike.
And also, I got this new saddle on my guitar, which is my winter saddle, due to humidity levels (so very low - only 37% relative humidity in my place at the moment; this is very, very low, people, and not good) and drying out of guitar tops and all, and it's really just a little too high. I did a little carving and sanding and filing on it, but it's still just a little too high. So what I've been doing is tuning some of my already low tunings down even lower, to like BbFBbFBbC (normally Csus2), for example, which is freakin' low maaaaaan, or CGCFGC (normally DADGAD) and capoing up at II or so, and it just sounds and feels nice, and the action is a touch lower, and that all makes me happy, like a leeeetle giiiirrrrl.
And now I have a dilemma. And that dilemma is that I almost want to re-record my album, all of it, not just a few tunes, in my living room using this technique, because the sound is better. But I don't think I have enough gas in the tank to do that, or the time, or the quiet, or the space, mentally and physically. And that sucks. And my tendonitis is bad and getting worse. And other stuff. Like the 400 lbs. kid upstairs bangs around too much. And the cat tends to eat without warning, and the bowl is just behind me, and the catfood is really hard stuff, and it crunches really loud. And there's no stopping her. And when she's done - which is only when the food is also done - she comes over and sits on my feet. And I can't tap them, as such. So we'll see. We'll see how it goes. I wanted to have this thing done before the holidays. I don't think that's going to happen. But it might. It's something to worry about, and we all need something to worry about. Otherwise we might be fine, and we can't have that.
There are things which break my heart, but I'm not going to talk about them. At this very moment.
Here's something I would recommend you not do: Put your face really, really close to your dobro when you change strings and tune your low G up to pitch, as that string at that pitch has a string tension of 38.6 pounds or ~172 Newtons, depending on your preference, all by its lonesome, and at .56 gauge, if it snaps, you're going to have a nasty, nasty facial scar when all is said and done.
Two words: Safety Goggles. Not yellin', just sayin'.
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