Partnerships

As an musician, I have been thinking lately about how much I have in common with other artists (a word I find painful to use when describing myself) and the attention they pay to the tools they use. I can’t get into too many specifics about the media those artists (the ones I know who aren’t musicians) use, but the conversations I have with them often revolve around the method and the materials and the tools. The end result is something we can discuss broadly when the creative process is done, but I find myself asking more questions about and being maybe even a little more interested in the process itself and the guts behind the finished product.

Those conversations led me to begin to examine my history with basses over the years. My ability to examine gear in detail has been generally limited. But I think this is changing as I’ve begun to play with a band that has been asked – by others primarily, and now we consider it an imperative – to develop a stage persona other than a bunch of people playing behind some singer. I think about specifically how the bass sounds from song to song and for the first time have given strong consideration to the use of multiple basses within a set in order to manufacture multiple sounds.

That also comes from the combination of basses I have now acquired – one I’ve had for some time and one I have just acquired on the cheap but am completely smitten with – looks, sound, all of it. But before we get there, let’s start with my very first bass.

This was the Washburn Axxess (yes, Axxess) bass (actually in black) I borrowed from my good friend Iestyn Lewis. I had always wanted to try electric bass after years of stand-up, and I believe Iestyn (who actually was and remains an unbelievable bass player) was ready to move on to guitar. Either that or he knew how much I really wanted to be part of the band and axxeded to my wish to take on the low-end sounds.

This bass was perfectly fine for the need I had at that moment. At this early stage, I needed, well, access. Or axxess. And I got it. The next bass was a Christmas present purchased for me at Hubbard’s Music (apparently the “Original Rock’n'Roll Hoochie Koos,” whatever that means) in my hometown of Las Cruces, NM.

This Fender Precision Bass is about as generic as this sort of tool gets. Not particularly high-quality but solid and easy to abuse, the P was a good starter kit for me. It was the bass to have when I was still learning things like “Oh! The pickup is magnetic so when you push the string to the pickup, it sticks. COOL! I’m gonna do it again…COOL! Wait, again…” One pickup, two knobs, no fuss. I could’ve really hurt myself at that stage with anything more complicated. But I think most importantly, it provided the most consistent sound from string to string and from note to note than anything I could have gotten for the price. Being in a pop-punk band and thrashing and flailing about as I did, with pick in full effect, I was probably destined to own it.

Then I became more concerned with how a bass looked Suddenly the generic squared-off curves of the P bass weren’t good enough, somehow. I wanted knobs and angles and stuff. So I got this…Fender Jazz Bass.

It’s fair to say the differences between these two are negligible. To me, they were everything. Two pickups this time. Two different volume knobs. A noticeable angular bump on the bottom right. Plus sunburst! And the extra metal area required to contain those knobs, which didn’t even have numbers on them. That’s how cryptic they were! No numbers or “volume”/”tone” notation needed – just figure it out for yourself!

I stuck with my J bass for a number of years before I finally upgraded my amplifier setup (thanks to a wonderful wife and a good friend who together picked out the perfect cabinet). I had just finished playing with the pop-punk band and was playing tunes that were more singer-songwriter-ish, more Americana. They required the subtlety that you can only get with fingers, not with a pick. I was starting to think beyond the basic “people just need to hear there’s a bass there” idea and toward the idea of “what should the bass actually, you know, sound like?”

At that point, I decided that the Jazz bass, cryptic and mysterious as it was, was also not putting out a great deal of sound or a great variety of sounds. I needed something more formidable. That’s when I got this.

I recall my very first show with the Music Man Stingray and the fact that I pretty much overwhelmed everyone else’s sound with my own. I had no idea how much power I was capable of producing with this new tool. In addition, we were playing the rickety stage upstairs at the old Mausoleum on Westheimer (Houston shoutout of sorts), and I’m almost certain I could have really rattled some windows if they hadn’t all been open.

I did learn how to control the sound with the four (4) knobs I now had to contend with, discovering that their equalizer power could help me shape the sound, hew it closer to the organ-pedal drone I was truly after. I was able to shave off the treble, both through the amp and through my EQ, so that I could allow guitar and drums to float along on a fog of bass. That’s what I wanted then, in any case, and the Stingray made it possible.

It was about the time I started playing the Stingray that I started to notice more about how basses felt when you played them. Up to that time, the P bass and the J bass had felt pretty similar – not much weight difference, not much difference in how I had to hold them. Their fingerboards were essentially the same, no difference in how I moved across them.

The Stingray, at first, felt hard to play. I remember sitting down with it in mega-corporate-guitar-suck-store and thinking to myself, “Well, I guess it’s…supposed to feel awkward and weird in my hand?” The other basses hadn’t felt that way. I simply chalked it up to a more solid construction and more attention to…detail? It was confusing to me, but in part because I knew these were great basses, that the Stingray’s reputation preceded it, that so many experts couldn’t be wrong, that this was the bass I should move up to and never mind the feeling.

As it turned out, I got used to the feeling, eventually realizing that if I weren’t trying so hard to reduce the fret buzz caused by pushing the strings down too lightly, the strings actually came up to meet me. That must have been why everyone liked the bass so much. Between that and the EQ control, I was glad I had traded the Jazz Bass and just about every other piece of equipment I owned PLUS cash for the Stingray. It has been an enduring relationship, one that continues even now as I find ways to explore bass sounds beyond the dense fog that has been my signature for the past three band lifespans. Much is possible with the range of sounds available from the bass itself.

But you should always have another option. If I’d been interested just in a solid backup, I’d have stuck with the Jazz Bass. But I was now becoming quite interested in the world of visual bass design. I had always had an interest in the quirkier-looking guitars and basses (Jaguars and Jazzmasters being my favorites for a long time), despite the fact that one of my bandmates had really had an awful time with his Jaguar and its constantly-falling bridge. Especially now that I had this tank, this behemoth of a bass in the Stingray, and because I knew it offered a full range of sounds, I was less concerned about how solid or versatile any other bass was. Mostly, I just wanted the shit to look cool.

So imagine everyone’s surprise when I picked up this thing on eBay.

Whereas the Stingray offered the equalizer, the great ergonomics/feel, and the heavy weight, this – well, this was a tinkertoy. Short-scale (30″ as opposed to 34″ for the standard bass), wooden glued-on bridge, outside wrapping made essentially of white electrical tape. And despite my deepest protestations, yes, it was really kinda pink. It was the anti-Stingray, even though it actually looked a good bit more like a real stingray than the bass version. Oh yeah, and it looked like devil’s horns.

In retrospect, the quirks should not have been the only thing I was looking for. It did have a unique tone. It certainly took away from the dense-fog feel I had built up through years of treble denial. There was a significant twang on display whenever I used it. And I didn’t know anyone else who had a bass that looked like this, so I showed it off whenever I could. I brought both basses to every show, and when we had a show at a bar with particularly interesting decor in Austin, I decided the Longhorn matched the decor better than the Stingray and chose to play it instead. Yes. Really.

It became a real issue, however, trying to navigate between the long-scale and short-scale basses. The fretting and distance between riffs was entirely different. I found myself overreaching and underreaching constantly at first when I had to try and work with both. I spent time working hard at it in practice, playing one, then playing the other, figuring out how to make the mental adjustment.

When the tape started peeling off the Longhorn, I thought it might be time to replace it. For the replacement, though, I unfortunately forgot all about the struggles of a shorter/longer-scale bass setup as soon as I saw the Hofner.

The Hofner – the classic Paul McCartney bass, this time in German-parts-Chinese-manufactured Contemporary Series form (read: MUCH cheaper than all-German) – sounded GREAT when I played it briefly in the music store. It had a booming response and more oomph than I honestly thought it would. And the look is classic.

But this was another short-scale 30″ bass. It had less room between strings, and for a fumble fingers like me (who had cut his teeth playing bass with a pick and had never really bothered to hone finger technique), this was a dangerous idea. I was already plotting, though. How would I gather up the money to purchase this bass? How cool would I look? How interesting would it be to have such contrasting sounds on display again?

That has always felt like a hasty purchase. It certainly was a nice-looking bass – and a nice-sounding one if you stayed within a certain range. I could really appreciate the choppy, poppy sound of the Hofner after the fog bass cleared. It had a crisp, clean sound that provides really good counterpoint to other, more heavily rock-influenced parts. I also discovered, quite by accident, that its body was more conducive to controlled feedback than was the Stingray’s.

But sound consistency was an issue. Though I had been playing with my fingers for some time, I still was heavy with my fingering technique, often plucking strings probably harder than I needed to. The Hofner frequently translates this into a buzzing sound reminiscent of flatulence. When that sound wasn’t present, the overall sound profile of the bass – the volume, the tone, everything – was so far different from the Stingray as to make transitions between the basses during the same set nearly impossible.

I have stuck with the Hofner for a couple of years now but have always left it off to the side, preferring the solid, known quantity that is the Stingray. People comment on the Hofner when it’s out, and my bandmates LOVE it. But they don’t have to play it like I do. It is a fine bass on its own merits. But I’ve been uneasy with the Hofner for a while.

And while trolling on eBay, I happened to run into this gem.

For a better look, click here.

I fell for this DiPinto Belvedere Deluxe, hard. The price (reserve set at not much more than my first-ever bass purchase) was exactly right. I really considered whether or not I should have a third bass. And yet it was essentially inevitable that I would at least bid on it. When I won it, my heart just about stopped.

Here is a bass with what many call a Hofner sound but with larger pickups for more sound and a more aggressive sound. While it doesn’t offer the EQ of the Stingray (and it doesn’t even have separate volume knobs for each pickup, something true gearheads might scream about), it does provide a switch at the top, closest to your face, where you can use either of the pickups exclusively or a combination of both. I took it off to the music store almost right away to try it on a variety of amps. The sound fairly sizzled through the cable out the speaker and back into my ear.

It also feels heavy, solid. It feels like every bit the equal of the Stingray (though it’s clearly not the same bass). It is Korean-made, as was the Longhorn Pro I mentioned earlier. What I can report to you is that it feels in absolutely no way cheap. Other than a slight flaw on the finish for the headstock, this bass is every bit the tank that the Stingray is. Many feel a heavy bass is simply not desirable. I completely disagree. I need to know my art, my music is in solid hands when I trust my tools with it. I haven’t felt quite so convinced of that with any other bass before. With this one, I am sure I will get what I want and that the bass can take what I dish out for abuse.

Despite how heavy it is, it is also semi-hollow. I am interested to experiment with feedback on this bass to see exactly what happens – will I get high-pitched Stingray whines or warm Hofner tones? I think the F-hole on the front plus the semi-hollow body will offer more control and more choices of how I want that feedback to sound.

Also, take a good look. It’s a gorgeous bass, reminiscent of what might happen if one of the old department store guitar manufacturers (National, Silvertone) had gotten a hold of a Les Paul and gone to town on it. It’s a great combination of solid elements and fanciful touches. Some might think the sparkle is too much; I think it’s just perfect, especially against the backdrop of the two-tone black-and-white finish. Even the stars as fret markings simply enhance the look.

I am already seeing possibilities for how my Stingray and the Belvedere compliment each other, offset each other with their different sounds. For the first time, I’m truly thinking of my basses as equal partners in this musical journey. I have an old, solid standby and a new, flashy showstopper. I also see a time where the sound, the looks, and the feel have FINALLY all come together. And I have the tools I need to do the work.