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skankdelvar

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Everything posted by skankdelvar

  1. The hum-cancelling split coil pickup provides a huge, full range tone.
  2. The Anderton's review reads like they've copy-pasted a sequence of posts from a slightly tedious BassChat thread: What do we think about the Precision? Frankly, I think we should sue their tits off for plagiarism.
  3. I've got a wooden reel of about 200' of lead solder that my Grandad liberated from EMI Ruislip when he retired in 1961. Not bragging, just saying.
  4. Yes. Yes, you did. Wait till you see my invoice. It's in the post.
  5. I am impressed. Do I detect the influence of the late Sir John Betjeman in your approach to meter?
  6. Speak for yourself. My face is as straight as a ruler's edge. A ruler delineated in Imperial inches. None of that metric muck.
  7. The management clearly made a huge mistake in appointing three attractive women. As everyone knows, I am militantly anti-sexist but we all know that pretty girls are usually lazy, high maintenance and don't stick around long. Secondly, three pretty girls in one office will inevitably fall out, usually in a 2 vs 1 psychodrama that drags everyone else into their vortex of madness. The bosses would have been much better off appointing just one middle-aged woman of homely appearance. They work harder, they're sensible and loyal and they don't come up to your desk at half-four in the afternoon whining 'Can I leave early to go the gym? Pleeeze?'
  8. A certain light can be cast on the subject by The Simpsons episode Bart's Dog Gets an F where Lisa buys a girls' magazine entitled 'Non-Threatening Boys'. Since time immemorial magazines of this nature and pop music alike have shared the same target market, namely 10 to 15 year-old girls. For obvious reasons it is necessary for practitioners in both sectors to convey the suggestion that they are shy, sympathetic individuals whose reproductive organs are of a strictly non-functioning nature. Throw in the truth that 'arrested development' now means many people continue to have a mental age of twelve well into their thirties and the explanation becomes clear. There's no money to be made trying to flog rampant phallocentrism to today's young women, most of whom yearn for romance yet for abject fear of the red-nosed bacon bayonet find themselves alone at night, sobbing helplessly into their Peppa Pig pillowcases. Hence the tendency for white boy pop performers to espouse the 'wet blanket' approach to hawking their product. It entirely escapes these bastards that two generations of our young men have effectively been gelded, trussed up and served up by the music industry in supplication to the radical feminists as an hors d'oeuvre before their main course of generally tutting about 'men' and glass ceilings. Well might we revise a famous lyric to read: If there's a bustle in your hedgerow don't be very alarmed now! It's just actually a spring clean for the May Queen Here is a warning for us all. Shall we heed it?
  9. I am fairly sure that's why Mr Blunt's friends called him that. The rest of us called him that for very different reasons, including but not limited to his espousal of the nostrum 'Man is born free but is everywhere a doormat'. Pah! If we time our pahs right we can create a stereo ping-pong effect and then someone will mention very old video games and the derail will be complete.
  10. You may in the course of the next week or two be contacted by one of my people with details of an academic research project I am sponsoring. Your input at the scoping stage would be much appreciated. I return to my contention that Mr James Blunt and his ilk feigned their pathetic uselessness in an attempt to brainwash an entire generation of young men. For while Mr Blunt was shilling the notion that a state of complete and utter subservience was a condition to which all men should aspire it is also a matter of record that he was getting so much punani that his cronies referred to him informally as 'C**ty Blunty'. One rule for them; another rule for us. Don't do what I do; do what I say. Pah.
  11. You have identified the tension which exists between the two competing impulses which sit at the core of what it means to be human. On the one hand, white boy pop: prissy, pursed-lipped self-repression and craven obeisance to artificial social constructs On the other, Metal: a priapic, uninhibited celebration of the animal instinct and all which flows therefrom Basically, Mr Ed Sheeran vs Mr Bon Scott; a contest with only one conceivable victor.
  12. Me too. Quite so. It's all a question of attitude really. For argument's sake, let us put ourselves in the position of a young man of limited means and few prospects of advancement. * White boy pop instructs him to sit in a little puddle of depression and await his statutory püssy-whipping. * Metal invites him to Unleash The Thunder And Ride The Train To Insanity City Where All The Hot Chicks Are Who among us would not choose the latter course of action? Yet to do so nowadays is to invite obloquy from progressives everywhere. I say 'P'shaw'. I think this may all be an Anglo-Saxon thing; a casual scrutiny of the AC/DC music vid Live at River Plate shows tens of thousands of happy young Latin Americans of both sexes going crazy fücking apeshit, heaving back and forth like a tidal wave and clearly intent on some serious post-gig coitus. They haven't got a problem with the lyrics. You just wouldn't get that here which is a serious problem when you think about the birth rate and population replacement.
  13. In my experience metal lyrics tend (though not always) to celebrate the protagonist's agency*. He is often about to do something; something possibly glorious, possibly evil, possibly involving a member of the opposite sex. On many occasions the metallist is in a state of open revolt the better to pursue his aim of enhancing his individuality. At other times the practitioner metallique invites like-minded people to join him in subsuming their individuality in a celebratory communal experience, possibly involving rituals of a bacchanalian or shamanistic or highly destructive nature. On rare occasions the metallista embraces melancholy but it doesn't usually last for long. Consider Mr John 'Ozzie' Osbourne's chef d'oeuvre Paranoid where he signs off with the encouragingly positive couplet: "I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could but it's too late" Even in his own personal pit of despair Ozzie exhorts the rest of us to enjoy ourselves. I think we can all learn from that By contrast, the white boy pop idols de nos jours mostly stink the place up with their whiny, self-pitying lyrics and their self-abasing paeans to unobtainable young women who in some way excite in the performer a sense of inferiority and general helplessness. Consider Mr James Blunt's hit You're beautiful. Some thirty four years separates the song from Paranoid and what a difference. The final couplet cosily embraces futility and failure: 'But it's time to face the truth I will never be with you' You're beautiful is now fifteen years old yet in many ways it set a template for so many young, white, male singer-songwriters. Depressed? Check. A failure? Check. Unshaggable? Check. Perhaps this is how young men today go about the business of soliciting a mercy fück? Perhaps these neo-pubescent milksops think that gaining access to the mossy bower requires fervent demonstrations of 'sensitivity' and 'consideration'? Or perhaps these simpering lads are simply resigned to the fact that 'they' (by whom they actually mean 'you, the listener' because these pop stars are prolly getting laid left, right and centre whereas I expect ordinary, healthy young chaps are lucky to get a sniff of it, 'Dark days for a cöcksman, dark days indeed', as Mr David Coverdale observed) are doomed to go their graves with their cherries un-popped. Frankly, were I to be forced to listen to a specific genre of lyrics I would choose metal over white boy pop any day of the week including Sundays. Proper Metal is a gourmand's dish of raw, bloody steak liberally dowsed with alcohol, mind-altering substances and tiger spünk. White boy pop lyrics are - by comparison - a sad little Tesco Basics egg sandwich. On a more specific point, the sword and sorcery sub-genre is nothing new in popular culture and plays into the general rampancy of 'metal as it should be'. My old pal and wing man Johnny Tolkien was wont to remark: 'What I really like on a Saturday night is a good old-fashioned goblin'. * Not his booking agency, obvs. I mean his capacity to act with autonomy, possibly in the furtherance of achieving his personal goals
  14. My man Mr Shrubshaw of Savile Row has strict instructions to tailor my shorts on the rumi side. Any tighter and a pandemic of envious resentment obtains among the male populace. Anyway, that bass is brown. No more, no less.
  15. I was thinking more of millinery. Or haberdashery. No one's going to go into a haberdasher's and say 'Good day to you, young man. I wish to purchase two hundred one-inch pins, a gross of doily edges and ... are you that Ped out of BassChat? Why, I oughta...'
  16. Good grief. Given the historic nature of relations it would naturally be incumbent on Ped to spring upon Mr Hall in a pantherish fashion and pummel the moustachioed munter to a fine purée. Such a course of action might open Our Glorious Helmsman up to the unthinkable outcome of dismissal, criminal charges and public obloquy. On the whole, I think it would be best if @ped chose a different retail sector. One where any BassChat-related baggage wouldn't matter.
  17. Having given the matter serious deliberation I have reached a conclusion. It is probably for the best that Messrs gear4music did not offer Mr Pedro @ped a job. Permit me to expand. * Mr Ped is an intelligent, organised individual with boundless creativity and world-class problem-solving skills. To shackle one such to an entry-level job where he would doubtless be reporting to a mouth-breathing dullard of dubious personal hygiene whose sole accomplishment is the ability to sing the company song would be an unconscionable waste of Mr Ped's talents. * IIRC, Messrs gear4music have long enjoyed (if that is the mot juste) a 'patchy' reputation on this forum. Were Mr Ped to be an employee of said company he might find his leisure hours disturbed by private messages from BassChat members the content of which communications might include but not be limited to: 'I ordered a set of 45-105 D'Adds last week. They aren't here yet. WTF not? Sort it pronto, shop boy'. I think we can imagine the damage such might do to Mr Ped's standing, based as it is on impeccable impartiality and omniscient omnipotence. His authority would be diminished; leadership rivals would fancy their chances; stillettos would be sent off for sharpening. The fabric of our community would be in clear and present danger. * Mr @ped would be forced into constant and unceasing interaction with the shopping public, a group comprised in the main of (i) ill-informed nit-wits (ii) furious complainers who when asked their name reply 'I'm Mister Smith' (iii) dopey, passive-aggressive prevaricators and (iv) sundry other filth and sweepings of the gutter. While I might wish such an outcome upon my many enemies it must be clear to all here that Mr Ped does not merit such a fate, never mind that some of those he has dispatched to Finnbass Island might disagree. * Painful though it may be we cannot avert our gaze from a possibility which would strike to the heart of the forum's rugged independence. Gear4music are Gibson stockists. Gibson not undeservedly get a hard time here on the forum, not least for their corporate shortcomings and the antics of those who run the company. Imagine that Mr Ped were working at gear4music and that the Gibson rep swung by one day and someone were to say 'Oh, this is Ped, he's just joined us. He runs BassChat, y'know' and the blood might drain from the Gibson rep's face and he might say 'Oh. BassChat. The bass forum that savagely mocks my company's senior management on the basis of their competence, their personal appearance and their dress sense? The forum that made poor Henry's life a living hell? That BassChat?' and Mr Ped would reply in the affirmative and the Gibson rep and the gear4music spod might draw off to a distance and a muttered conversation might ensue and the gear4music spod might waddle back over and say: 'Look, Ped, we need to do something about the way that BassChat's members slag Gibson off' and an uncomfortable pause might ensue, whereafter Ped might say 'I really don't know what you mean' and difficult tensions might follow. TLDR: I cannot rejoice that Mr Ped did not get the job. But it's probably just as well
  18. Quite so. At age 14 my school music teacher pulled his annual private scam of drafting some of us into the school orchestra. This involved him renting various clapped out POS instruments out to us for a fiver a term each, all of which money went into his own pocket. I got a violin with strings so far off the board you could have used it for a cheese slicer. Naturally, I struggled. My parents were convinced that lessons were the answer so off I plodded. It did nothing for my technique but I developed a wretched set of calluses and a profound hatred for the violin. In the end I flatly refused to continue and there was a bit of a scene at school. Shame, really. It was the 1970's and with a violin I could have been a folk-rock muso and had my pick of those pale, ethereal girls who used to wear purple loons and stick a finger in their ear and warble away about faerie queens and shït like that. In such small ways are our lives changed forever.
  19. One time I was invited to audition for a Jam trib outfit; the audition never happened because I discovered early on that the frontman was a narcissistic, incompetent fantasist but that's another story. Anyhow, before I realised this was going nowhere I lashed out on a couple of Jam live albums and gave them some serious and prolonged ear-hole. Before I even got around to working out Foxton's parts I realised was how much he was the epicentre of the band in a live context. Weller's guitar (live) was a clangy mush of percussive power chords whereas Foxton's bass provided the melodic foundation for the songs. Weller's voice was a sort of mooing grunt whereas Foxton hit the notes, did some lovely harmonies and seemed to be doubling the lead vocal a lot of the time. OK, Weller wrote the songs, was the visual focus and - in the studio - laid down some really good stuff. In a live situation Foxton held up the lead vocal, provided the choon that went underneath it and basically held the whole thing together. Interesting. Unfashionable opinion: live, Weller could barely hack it and Foxton propped him up. Funnily enough, that was exactly the situation with the trib outfit when I unobtrusively slid in to check them out one night.
  20. How It Works: #23 - Market Regulation CMA insists Fender cease resale price maintenance Online retailers discount the t1ts off everything Fender. Small local music shops go out of business Online retailers put their prices back up higher than they were Consumers pay more than they did before CMA pats itself on the back for a job well done CMA spod gets peerage and a consultancy gig with online retailer
  21. The Talman is a higher quality bass than the Bronco and more versatile in the sounds department. Playing wise, the thing that swung it for me was the nut width on the Talman is 41mm whereas it's 38mm on the Bronco which I found slightly more comfortable, me having stumpy fingers and preferring a Jazz-width.
  22. @Lako No point in persisting with full scale if your daughter finds it too uncomfortable. For one thing it could put her off and for another she might (possibly) strain a muscle. So maybe experiment with a short-scale, in which case I'd absolutely recommend the Squier Bronco - it's a short scale bass (30") designed for younger (i.e. smaller) people but perfectly playable in every other sense. Squier Bronco Broncos are nice and easy to play, very light and they sound pretty good considering the stock pick-up is basically out of a Strat. The bridge and tuners are more robust than they look and do the job fine. The wiring harness is ugly but functional. The stock strings get adverse comment so they might need to be replaced with a higher quality set. At about £150 online they're as cheap as chips and they hold their value well, going for about £100-£120 secondhand) so the depreciation is next to nothing. Better still, there's a Bronco modding community out there so when the young player outgrows the Bass she can pass it on to Dad to mess around with. If you can't live with a Bronco try an Ibanez Talman TMB30 shortscale. It's a bit better made than the Bronco but I found that the neck was a tad less comfortable in the hand. Ibanez Talman
  23. You mean people like me who take their hand off the neck? (Narrows eyes, lights half-smoked cheroot, adjusts poncho; Ennio Morricone Spaghetti Western music plays in the background).
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