Categories
Guitars

Yamaha SG1000

In the early 80s, I was a guitarist who was very much a product of the 70s Rock decade. I’d learned songs by guitar greats such as Steve Howe, David Gilmour, Steve Hillage, Tony Iommi, Steve Hackett, Robert Fripp, Mike Oldfield, Dave Brock and the rest. But, this was all becoming a bit comfortable and safe.

I became aware of a new breed of guitarists who were less like stars, and were bringing a whole new range of sounds to the party. These new guys included Robert Smith, The Edge, Will Sergeant, Bernard Albrecht, Hugh Cornwell and John McGeoch.

Yamaha SG1000

I found myself writing heavily effected angular warbly guitar parts. This was probably due in no small part to my obsession with a string of albums by Siouxsie and The Banshees. So, I guess it was inevitable that I would one day acquire a Yamaha SG1000, McGeoch’s weapon of choice in Magazine and The Banshees.

It’s not really a guitar hero’s guitar. It’s nicknamed the Les Paul Killer after all. It’s not very sexy, it’s not a classic guitar, and it’s not that common. In fact, in all my years, I’d not actually seen one in a shop until recently. But, there it was, in Johnny Roadhouse in Manchester, this summer.

I had to give it a spin. The first thing I noticed was its weight. It was heavier than all my guitars. But it is crafted beautifully. Solid resonant mahogany, faultless build, with an exquisite glued in slim C neck and 10″ radiused ebony fretboard, gold hardware, a belly cut, front neck and body binding, and fancy inlay. It oozed quality, with a matching price tag. But, when I realised that its pickups worked as humbuckers and single coils, I bought it.

Since leaving Crimson Creatures, I decided to make it my current workhorse. It’s a real Swiss Army Knife of a guitar. Expect to hear it on my next project.

Categories
General

Progressive Punk?!

Some said it couldn’t be done, but, finally, it has. Wire and The Stranglers both had a good stab at it in the late 70s. But, we are now seeing what happens when you cross-breed two seemingly incompatible musical genres.

For the First Time (2021) by Black Country, New Road

It started in 2021 with Black Country, New Road‘s debut album For the First Time. It was a Post-Punk album with clever arrangements and striking contrasts. It was closely followed by Squid‘s debut album Bright Green Field. This was arguably more Post-Punk than Prog, but the extended instrumental sections begged to differ.

Bright Green Field (2021) by Squid

Black Midi, who had been getting a name for their blazing rapid-fire controlled explosive music and Mercury Prize nomination, finally harnessed their full potential, and dropped Hellfire! on an unsuspecting public.

Hellfire (2022) by Black Midi

Their third album is a dizzying whirlwind of genre-hopping, face-slapping, sprinting thrash-laden, crooning horror. It’s an eloquent, masterful album, with equal measures of raw power, Dadaist technical brilliance and Zappa-esque humour. The first time I played the album, I couldn’t listen to anything else for at least an hour, my senses had been so assaulted.

Motorbike (2022) by Blue Bendy

Struggling to follow this up in 2023, I eventually stumbled upon the Motorbike EP from 2022, by another young band called Blue Bendy. A bit less Post-Punk and a bit more Progressive, their music is bristling with ideas, condensing a huge array of sounds, rhythms and emotions into their songs.

Blue Bendy’s music is so dense, it might be a difficult listen for some people. But it is saved by their sweet and delicious sounds, which reward the listener with new layers with every play. I have played this at least once almost every day this year, making it a clear winner of my ‘album’ of the year, without either being an album, nor released this year.

Categories
General

Life on the Road

When I joined Crimson Creatures in 2021, we talked a lot about the music. We talked a lot, full stop. We talked about writing songs, and recording them. Pretty soon we had 12 songs done. We also talked about the possibility of playing the songs live. And, as it became clear that we were able to do the songs justice as a live group, we stepped up the search for a drummer.

We struggled to get the right drummer, but, 8 months later, we finally managed it. After 4 months of rehearsals, we played our first gig, and it was largely a success. I say “largely” as there were some technical problems beyond our control, and some that were down to us. And the audience was small—many people being distracted by the other goings-on at the festival. But the main thing was that we played well and sounded good.

Crimson Creatures, live in 2023

With another couple of gigs lined up, it seemed it was onwards and upwards. But, with the change of focus to live performance, Ego started to affect the band dynamics, and the ecosystem of the previous 18 months started to unravel.

I’d been quite nervous about playing live. In my last gig (with First Night With the Indians) I was almost 20. I’d had a 38 year hiatus from gigging. But, as I watched the band on before us, I realised I was raring to go. I was buzzing at the end of our set.

This all changed with the 2nd gig. From the outset, my reservations about the venue were realised. For 45 minutes on stage, I had to struggle with feedback, lack of space, and poor sound. On top of this, the Ego was bolder.

We finished the gig with different feelings. Half were pleased, half were disappointed. We’d been building up to this for months. And for what? An audience of maybe 20 people, one of whom was complimentary afterwards. We packed up without much talk that night.

Third time lucky though, eh! I brought along a big group of family and friends to gig number 3. We played our best chops, and the sound was spot on. I relaxed a bit, and enjoyed the intimate atmosphere. Unfortunately, the Ego had fully blossomed by this stage, and the evening was punctuated by a series of annoying incidents.

Fortunately, I’d thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I had lots of friends in the audience to distract me. But, after sleeping on it, I started to see more negatives than positives. Do I really want to be putting this much work into what is effectively just a hobby? Can I really stomach any more of the Ego? Are we destined to play these small gigs to small uninterested crowds for years? Why does no one else in the band share my concerns?

Of course, it’s always the last straw which breaks the camel’s back. A silly argument about something which shouldn’t reasonably need discussing was the tipping point for me. I’d had enough; I wanted to make it stop. And, all of a sudden, I quit the band.

So, the moral of the tale? You shouldn’t regret decisions to try new things, but be wary of changing circumstances affecting the delicate balance of something as simple as a rock band. And keep talking.

Categories
Guitars

Kasuga “Deluxe” LG-480BS

I didn’t have much disposable income as a teen. So, when a friend bought an electric guitar, I made lots of measurements, got a luthiery book from the local library, and made my first electric guitar from plywood and cheap hardware. It worked, but it wasn’t great, and it wasn’t pretty.

The Plywood Plank (TM)

A year or so later, I went halves with my parents, and got a used electric guitar for my 16th birthday, from Reidy’s in Blackburn. When I saw that tiger maple hanging on the wall, it was love at first sight. It was heavy, well built, with cream binding, a gorgeous rosewood fretboard and medium frets, smooth Grover style machine heads, and it played very nicely. But, all that was written on the guitar were the words “Kasuga Deluxe”. It was a mysterious mahogany beast from the Far East.

I decided that the wood finish was too gorgeous to spoil with plastic. So I removed the cream pickup selector ring and pickguard, and replaced the cream pickup rings with ‘cool’ black ones. Phwoar!

The Kasuga served me well. For 10 years, I recorded numerous songs and played a dozen gigs in several bands in the North West. And then, the thing which happens to many people in their 20s, happened to me. I got a job, got married, and had kids. The guitar hung on a hook on the wall for almost 3 decades. Occasionally, it would come down for a dusting, and I would struggle to remember how to play anything. A couple of times, I tried to restart the playing, but it never lasted long.

70s Kasuga catalogue

In 2018, I joined a group of mature amateur musicians. This was the catalyst I needed to resume my passion for playing guitar. The Kasuga got a good clean and a set of new strings. I also decided that I was long overdue that fancy guitar I’d always dreamed of, and the Kasuga ended up back on the wall.

Meanwhile, as the internet had become a thing since I acquired the Kasuga, I decided to do some research. I discovered that the Deluxe was actually called an LG-480BS, and it originated in a Japanese factory sometime around 1976. Kasuga was a respected if little-known company, which had made good midrange electrics and acoustics for a range of well-known Japanese and western guitar manufacturers for many years.

As my renewed guitar obsession progressed, I started to feel sad about the Kasuga, which was being betrayed on a daily basis. I’d even tried out a few real Les Pauls. But none of them played as well as mine. So, one day, I decided to make it up to her. I was going to give her a deluxe make-over.

Off came the nut, revealing a rather chunky slab rosewood fretboard.
On went a new bone nut.
Those strings were made to sit nice and low.
The gloss neck was exfoliated with fine grade sandpaper, giving it a silky satin finish.
I splashed out on some used Seymour Duncan Seth Lover PAF pickups, and cream pickup rings. These pickups are supposed to be the closest thing to Les Paul gold that you could buy without a mortgage.
The crackly old pots were replaced with new vintage taper pots, wired 50s style, and the speed knobs were replaced with early Standard style bell knobs.

I also replaced the knobbly old bridge saddles with smart shiny new ones. The Kasuga was hot to trot.

So now, it looks a little more and sounds a little more like a £250k 1959/1960 Les Paul Standard. The bolt-on neck (neatly hidden from view) still sustains almost as well as a glued-in neck. The comfy 10-inch radius fretboard and satin slim C profile neck is a delight to play. The pickups sound old, expensive, and like they’ve seen a few things in their time. And she still looks gorgeous. Not bad for approaching 50!