redshifter.org

But I love them so.

After hooking up with Io, cram-learning a set's worth of their songs in two weeks, then leaving for two weeks, then returning home to play a "headlining" show at midnight which to my severely jet-lagged body felt like 9am, my first gig with the band was a trial by fire, to say the least. Throw in the worst technical difficulties I've ever experienced onstage, and you can imagine my frustration.

Every musician, at least those of us who rely on electrical amplification, holds a deep-rooted fear of standing on stage in front of a waiting audience, frantically trying to figure out why the hell your rig is dead silent. You switch out to new cables -- nothing. You try new instruments -- nothing. Your bandmates stand there, impatient yet supportive of you in your plight. All eyes are on you as you flail and fumble to try to get your fucking thousands of dollars' worth of gear to make so much as a peep. That was me last night.

Except in my case, I even swapped an entire different setup -- a borrowed bass and amp from one of the opening bands, and still there was no sound. There was a ghost in the machine. My bass is primo-grade US-made Fender. My amp is 10 years old but was recently given a complete check-up and overhaul in the shop. My cabinet is nearly brand-new. I even bought brand-new instrument cables yesterday to ensure 100% reliability. Nope.

I still don't know what the hell was going on (my only theory is that the house power voltage was flaky), and even the replacement amp I ended up using was cutting out on me. It was inexplicable. It sucked.

Despite all that, we rocked it. People liked it, and it felt good.

The whole experience put the fear in me, though. I'm considering selling my all-vacuum-tube amp and replacing it with the more reliable SVT 3 Pro. The SVT-CL may boast the world's best tone, but I'm willing to sacrifice a smidge of that for the peace of mind in knowing that my shit is just going to work when I hit the switch.