A couple of days ago I sold my beloved Fender Twin to a gentleman in one of my very favorite Athens bands, Doctor Squid
. (I should also mention that my 3 year old considers them her favorite band, which means I've listened to their record nearly every day since February of last year... and it still holds up).
It needed to be done: since I bought my dream amp in late '08 (my equally beloved Mesa/Boogie Mark III), the tried-and-true Twin hadn't seen much use. And it really deserves to be played. Plus, I needed the money to put towards what I hope is some kind of future in recording things, and let's face it, money ain't exactly just laying around everywhere these days.
So allow me a brief (yet absurd) moment to tell a piece of electronic equipment thanks for all the years of rocking and rolling.
I bought the amp off eBay when I was a senior in college (waaaaaay back in '00-'01). Having lived through the suicide of my second Peavey combo, I scrounged some money and bought something with tubes. Something that weighed nearly 80 lbs. Seriously, that thing is heavy... I really needed one of those contractor harness things or at least a weightlifter's belt to avoid a hernia.
The Twin served me well through my college band (the barely-remembered Waleska, GA Christian folk/rock five-piece Copper John) and on to California and back when we started Rebuilt Records. Every Flavor of the Week
track featuring guitar was recorded with that amp, though it rarely left the house during my Alive in the Fall
But when the Warm Fuzzies
came calling, the Twin was first to volunteer, and the Bubblegum EP
is the sound of a whole 'lot of it (as well as Davey's Pro Junior).
I really like building history with the things I "own." I use quotations there because I don't really "own" anything for perpetuity; at some point things will pass on to someone else. I'm really coming to enjoy that. When I play my most beloved instrument, the Buddy Holly reissue Gibson J-45 my lovely wife gave me when we got married for my children as they sleep or dance around the house, I imagine that one day it will fall to them. I hope they're nicer to my instruments than I was to my father's...
Now, I know artifacts don't have souls, but just like the Velveteen Rabbit who became more real with every bump, scrape, and tear, I like to imagine that my hands are somehow shaping these instruments into a story worth passing on to my kids (and their kids and their kids).
Besides, money ain't just layin' around these days, and a few guitars may be all I've got to give them (so those stories better be good).
Farewell, Fender Twin - thanks for a decade of awesomeness.
Posted via email from JasonHarwell.com