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Musicman Bongo- your views


Old Horse Murphy
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I've got a 4 string Bongo with the humbucker and single coil and its a bit of a tone monster.

good bits

big big tone with a a lot of variety
compensated nut for great intonation across the neck- harmonics pop out all over
super fast low action on mine without any rattles or choking off notes
24 frets (if thats your thing)
feels indestructible
neck single coil sounds great solo'd
4 band EQ is well voiced imo
did I say tone? this thing sounds huge,fat, and with a smooth hi-fi sounding tone
(the sounds are the best thing about teh Bongo imo)


bad bits

neck pickup bit close to the edge of the fingerboard
lower horn juts into my leg when playing seated
possibly I hear more electronics than wood in the sounds(not sure this is necessarily a bad thing)
looks still seem odd to me
painted neck not everybodyd idea of fun


I was going to offload mine but I've a project I'm using it on these days and it fits the bill brilliantly.It also compliments my Sterling very well.

hope this helps

DJ

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I've got two, a 4HS I've had for a couple of years, and I recently picked up a 4HH/piezo. (I've also had a 4HH without piezo, a 4H and a 5HS and very nearly bought the HS that dub_junkie mentions - maybe one day :) )

I rarely use anything else and absolutely love the sound and playability of them.

I wasn't that sure of the look at first, but they've grown on me over the time I've had them and everything I've bought has failed to beat the Bongo for sound.



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Thanks guys

I've been using my US P-Bass for rehearsing recently and as we play in a 3 piece, I'm struggling a bit to cut through. As it happens, I've just been offered a Bongo (
HH (bought new in April) for £750, which seems a reasonable price to me.

If the tone's as good as everyone says, then it should compliment my P-Bass' THUMP nicely

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Bongo Beginnings:

You see, it turns out that black holes are simply giant plastic vacuum molding machines. Although we haven't found that out yet...


It was a bitter Autumn's eve, his black boots had quickly gathered a rough coating of grit and mud, and his troubles followed him in the form of faint footprints in the unstable ground. Solace was sought in the rain that hovered like a thousand coasting crystals. The headlights of each passing vehicle lit the night's sky and provided the iridescent white that shimmered off the back of each falling droplet.

He pulled tight the remaining buckle of his overcoat, clenched his fingers and sunk his fleecy chin into the warm embrace of his overcoat's collar. The coat's fibers soon moistened under his grave breath and the merciless wind lashed at his lips and cracked hands. His eyelids had long since given into satiety and sleep and were only raised in order to attenuate his sense of touch that was being brutally exploited by the rain that relentlessly stabbed at his bare face and neck. His walking torpor hurriedly scurried away when he was interrupted by the sweet smell of wet tarmac. There was no need for him to open his eyes, his ears had caught and quickly reeled in the faint sound of a Taos hum like diesel engine in the distance. He raised his arm and forced a protruding thumb. His head mimicked that of a doll with loose fittings. It hung low and tired, the water that had been collecting at the pool of his hat was finally free to fall. It hit the ground with an unexpected thud. He could feel it in his bones.

It didn't take long for a vehicle to stop. The breaks were efficient and the personalised number plate, 'DING' could just be made out in the moonlight before the car reversed back. The person in the car could only render an outline of the figure's silhouette forth the moon; a tall and sturdy frame finished with a cumbersome bound. The person in the car was lit only by the backlight of the vehicle's clock, his right arm shone bright blue and his impertinent lips cast a lingering shadow up to his aviator shades.
"Hey, where are you going?"
-"Into town."
"I'm going through town, get in if you want a lift."

He turned his back to the man in the car and scraped what mud he could off the soles of his shoes. A gentle push on the door opened it with satisfying striction. On stepping in, he shook off the excess water on his hat and placed it upon his lap with his hands placed either side. Intrigued, the driver turned on the interior lights by flicking the switch above his head. With a bewildered squint the passenger asked,
"Toasted?!"
"Yea," Toasted replied, equally shocked, "How do you know my name?"
"It's me! Eddie! EdwardHimself!" Edward exclaimed.
"What, you mean from Basschat?.. No, you can't be. You're so old." Toasted responded, perplexion personified.

It was true, Edward seemed to have aged impossibly beyond his years. His hair shimmered silver in the moonlight and each weathered crevasse upon his faced could have counted a decade's experience.
"It's really quite simple Toasted. Time travel." Edward declared.

Toasted removed his shades and stared desperately into Edward's eyes, searching for any yield in his conscience. As he breathed out, sweat began to muster upon his bemused brow. The car did not start for at least another hour. Edward sat and delicately explained the astonishingly simple act of time travel, the method and how quick and cheap it is to build a working machine. Edward also explained the desperate need to build one, that on August the 14th 2044, a black hole that had been waiting in patient presentiment for the last 24 years had abruptly swallowed the sun and the crescent moon and vacuum wrapped them in some sort of plastic. This had left a bizarre, unseen and controversial glowing shape in the sky. Many turned to philosophy and religion to explain the circumstances. Whereas Edward and a few others devised a plan to go back in time and prevent the black hole from ever beginning.
"That's why I'm here." Edward proclaimed.

On the journey into town, the two travelers found it relaxing to talk about all things bass and music. They seldom talked about the seriousness or simply abnormal prospect of Edward's arrival. He did, however, explain the extreme circumstances in which he left 2044 and the disastrous effects of not having light. But after a short time Edward fell asleep without contest for the first time in days.

In the early hours of the morning, Toasted nudged Edward awake as they were heading into town. Edward sat back up in his chair, pulled his seatbelt tight and felt the strain on the right side of neck. The moist leather seat left an intoxicating aroma that made him feel almost as drowsy as when he had gone to sleep. Edward rubbed his eyes open and was overcome by nostalgia at the traditional street lamps that lead the way.
"We're here" Toasted said, now completely nonchalant.

Edward and Toasted stepped out of the car and rang the appropriate authorities using the telephone box adjacent to the town hall. An urgent crisis meeting was held with Edward, Toasted, (slightly autocratic but much loved) Prime Minister CrazyKiwi and all his subordinates (slave minions). The conversation mainly went along the lines of "We have the technology" and general well written, simple instructions for preemptive eradication of black holes. Edward left the meeting an anonymous hero and sent a message to himself naming all the cheap basses which will be worth tens of thousands of pounds in the future.

Edward stepped out onto the pavement after saying his goodbyes and thank yous to Toasted. He held his head up and basked in the warm glow of natural sunlight. That’s when the thought came to him. Immediately Edward began running back to his time machine. His muscles ached; his bones felt brittle and his organs felt over-worked. After what seemed like many hours of running, Edward finally reached the time machine. He ate three meat popsicles and had a shower, after which he felt fully regenerated. Edward set the time on the time machine for July 1999 and set the destination for San Luis, California. After a brief chat with Sterling Ball, bassy history was made.

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[quote name='paul, the' post='36678' date='Jul 25 2007, 04:52 AM']Bongo Beginnings:

You see, it turns out that black holes are simply giant plastic vacuum molding machines. Although we haven't found that out yet...
It was a bitter Autumn's eve, his black boots had quickly gathered a rough coating of grit and mud, and his troubles followed him in the form of faint footprints in the unstable ground. Solace was sought in the rain that hovered like a thousand coasting crystals. The headlights of each passing vehicle lit the night's sky and provided the iridescent white that shimmered off the back of each falling droplet.

He pulled tight the remaining buckle of his overcoat, clenched his fingers and sunk his fleecy chin into the warm embrace of his overcoat's collar. The coat's fibers soon moistened under his grave breath and the merciless wind lashed at his lips and cracked hands. His eyelids had long since given into satiety and sleep and were only raised in order to attenuate his sense of touch that was being brutally exploited by the rain that relentlessly stabbed at his bare face and neck. His walking torpor hurriedly scurried away when he was interrupted by the sweet smell of wet tarmac. There was no need for him to open his eyes, his ears had caught and quickly reeled in the faint sound of a Taos hum like diesel engine in the distance. He raised his arm and forced a protruding thumb. His head mimicked that of a doll with loose fittings. It hung low and tired, the water that had been collecting at the pool of his hat was finally free to fall. It hit the ground with an unexpected thud. He could feel it in his bones.

It didn't take long for a vehicle to stop. The breaks were efficient and the personalised number plate, 'DING' could just be made out in the moonlight before the car reversed back. The person in the car could only render an outline of the figure's silhouette forth the moon; a tall and sturdy frame finished with a cumbersome bound. The person in the car was lit only by the backlight of the vehicle's clock, his right arm shone bright blue and his impertinent lips cast a lingering shadow up to his aviator shades.
"Hey, where are you going?"
-"Into town."
"I'm going through town, get in if you want a lift."

He turned his back to the man in the car and scraped what mud he could off the soles of his shoes. A gentle push on the door opened it with satisfying striction. On stepping in, he shook off the excess water on his hat and placed it upon his lap with his hands placed either side. Intrigued, the driver turned on the interior lights by flicking the switch above his head. With a bewildered squint the passenger asked,
"Toasted?!"
"Yea," Toasted replied, equally shocked, "How do you know my name?"
"It's me! Eddie! EdwardHimself!" Edward exclaimed.
"What, you mean from Basschat?.. No, you can't be. You're so old." Toasted responded, perplexion personified.

It was true, Edward seemed to have aged impossibly beyond his years. His hair shimmered silver in the moonlight and each weathered crevasse upon his faced could have counted a decade's experience.
"It's really quite simple Toasted. Time travel." Edward declared.

Toasted removed his shades and stared desperately into Edward's eyes, searching for any yield in his conscience. As he breathed out, sweat began to muster upon his bemused brow. The car did not start for at least another hour. Edward sat and delicately explained the astonishingly simple act of time travel, the method and how quick and cheap it is to build a working machine. Edward also explained the desperate need to build one, that on August the 14th 2044, a black hole that had been waiting in patient presentiment for the last 24 years had abruptly swallowed the sun and the crescent moon and vacuum wrapped them in some sort of plastic. This had left a bizarre, unseen and controversial glowing shape in the sky. Many turned to philosophy and religion to explain the circumstances. Whereas Edward and a few others devised a plan to go back in time and prevent the black hole from ever beginning.
"That's why I'm here." Edward proclaimed.

On the journey into town, the two travelers found it relaxing to talk about all things bass and music. They seldom talked about the seriousness or simply abnormal prospect of Edward's arrival. He did, however, explain the extreme circumstances in which he left 2044 and the disastrous effects of not having light. But after a short time Edward fell asleep without contest for the first time in days.

In the early hours of the morning, Toasted nudged Edward awake as they were heading into town. Edward sat back up in his chair, pulled his seatbelt tight and felt the strain on the right side of neck. The moist leather seat left an intoxicating aroma that made him feel almost as drowsy as when he had gone to sleep. Edward rubbed his eyes open and was overcome by nostalgia at the traditional street lamps that lead the way.
"We're here" Toasted said, now completely nonchalant.

Edward and Toasted stepped out of the car and rang the appropriate authorities using the telephone box adjacent to the town hall. An urgent crisis meeting was held with Edward, Toasted, (slightly autocratic but much loved) Prime Minister CrazyKiwi and all his subordinates (slave minions). The conversation mainly went along the lines of "We have the technology" and general well written, simple instructions for preemptive eradication of black holes. Edward left the meeting an anonymous hero and sent a message to himself naming all the cheap basses which will be worth tens of thousands of pounds in the future.

Edward stepped out onto the pavement after saying his goodbyes and thank yous to Toasted. He held his head up and basked in the warm glow of natural sunlight. That’s when the thought came to him. Immediately Edward began running back to his time machine. His muscles ached; his bones felt brittle and his organs felt over-worked. After what seemed like many hours of running, Edward finally reached the time machine. He ate three meat popsicles and had a shower, after which he felt fully regenerated. Edward set the time on the time machine for July 1999 and set the destination for San Luis, California. After a brief chat with Sterling Ball, bassy history was made.[/quote]

ok so let me get this straight, it was me, from the future, coming back to the past after saving the world with my wacky time machine, who invented that bass. Ok well one of my many career choices would be a wacky inventer or a secret agent. Sounds quite fun. And also it wouldn't be very good but there is a slight possibilty i might look that bad at 53. One thing tho, would i really invent a bass that i personally find unattractive in most ways? oh well i suppose people change... OR maybe it was because i read this story as a lad that before i buggered off home i remembered to invent the bongo bass so as not to put a hole in history big enough to crumble the very existence of the future and us BCers will be the only ones who know about this and we will know that the crazy storyteller called paul who likes pics of cats with beanie hats covering their eyes was the real hero, i just made it happen.

Edited by EdwardHimself
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Bongos....

Very thin paint on rear of neck and headstock. I found the body a bit uncomfortable after a time. Probably coz it's too big.

The 4-band eq gives lots of variations to the already hugely coloured sound, and I could still never find the sound I wanted. It just didn't sound 'natural'.

Great body finish. Mine was orange. Kept it for two months - it was that good!

At the end of the day its all down to personal preference.

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[quote name='EdwardHimself' post='37513' date='Jul 26 2007, 08:17 PM']ok so let me get this straight, it was me, from the future, coming back to the past after saving the world with my wacky time machine, who invented that bass. Ok well one of my many career choices would be a wacky inventer or a secret agent. Sounds quite fun. And also it wouldn't be very good but there is a slight possibilty i might look that bad at 53. One thing tho, would i really invent a bass that i personally find unattractive in most ways? oh well i suppose people change... OR maybe it was because i read this story as a lad that before i buggered off home i remembered to invent the bongo bass so as not to put a hole in history big enough to crumble the very existence of the future and us BCers will be the only ones who know about this and we will know that the crazy storyteller called paul who likes pics of cats with beanie hats covering their eyes was the real hero, i just made it happen.[/quote]

Woah 'man,' that's too 'out there' for me. You need to get your feet back to solid ground. Yo.

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I never liked the look of them but then suddenly did (it was a blue one for sale here that turned me) now I shall be buying a 5 as soon as funds allow and no other bass.
Until I have my Sei 6 built.
Oh and I want a Fender Jag.

And a Ric.

And a fretless Aria SB from 1983 in red.
But that's definitely all. especially the Bongo. Well, mainly the Bongo.

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bongos [i]are [/i]a very odd shape - but i've noticed that in pictures where people are actually wearing/playing them they look much better than they do just by themselves..... perhaps these designers DO know what they're doing after all!


peace


c

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Was it this one Stew?

I love it. Very easy to play, full range of tones onboard, 17mm spacing makes it feel fast for fingerstyle. The front pickup is very close to the fingerboard and is not a problem for basic slapping / popping, although I have had to drop the height of it so I have some room to 'hit through' for my (rather pedestrian at present) double-thumb stuff.

[attachment=1519:bongo1e.jpg]

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