I'm a slut...

Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm sort of a "gear slut." In other words, I love music making gear and all of its accessories. There is something about acquiring gear that is unlike any other form of shopping fanaticism, because the object of our fantasy has the potential to help a lustful musician, like myself, transcend the earth and all its physical boundaries. It somehow helps us become better artists. Like any other kind of consumerism there is something aspirational about shopping for music gear. We want to be better people. And whether its a guitar or a new gig bag, the rush and "heart swell" before, during and after the purchase is singular and addictive.

The caveat to all of this is, hopefully you find balance between acquiring gear and becoming a better musician or person. In some instances, you could turn into someone like John Entwhistle, bass player for The Who and gear slut extraordinaire who literally acquired hundreds of instruments over his career. For me, its been a matter of getting the best tools to the gig or the studio and being able to have some versatility while traveling light.

I've been on the road so much lately that when I'm travelling by myself, I have a tendency to strip down to the essentials. There have been weeks where my hotel room looked like this. Thats pretty much what the inside of my head looked like as well, I think.

I've been on a gig bag buying spree lately looking for the lightest weight and heaviest duty bags I can find. (I know. It seems like a contradiction.) I'm no John Entwhistle, so my instruments have to pull double duty in the studio and on the road. Thats a frightening proposition taking my favorite studio guitar on the plane and toting it through train stations and letting it be handled by "throwers" at the airport. The gig bag above is a TRIC made by Godin. Its light as a feather and supposedly I can stand on it, although I don't think I really want to try. I can wear it on my back and run through the airport and if absolutely necessary, I can let it get gate checked and stowed under the plane. So while other people are white-knuckled during bumpy flights over the Rockies or landing in the Windy City at Midway, I'm usually wide-eyed at the thought that "My Precious!" is getting tossed around in the luggage hold.

So its not sexy, but it still counts. I'm still a slut even though I'm just buying scads of high-end luggage for my instruments.

Dinner: Tuna Noodle Casserole - cuz Drew wanted it and I've never made it before.
Listening: Johnny's Garden - Ana Egge