spending money is addictive

congratulations to my checkbook. it survived. so did my plastic.
today i stepped foot in new jersey. hoboken to be exact. it was actually kind of cute. quaint. but looked like it would get boring fast. so of course it made me homesick.
the studio is SO nice. that live room is HUGE. the gear is impressive. the control room is spacious. the bedrooms are big. big enough for 2 twin beds. big kitchen/dining area and living room. plus, it's right across the street from a supermarket. so in short, it seems like a chill place that's going to be very conducive to the creative process. to bad i can't afford to do the whole project there.

before i did that, i fell in love with my new guitar amp. it's so simple that i can't mess it up. just plug my guitar into it, turn the volume knob until it reaches just the right saturation, and voila, the tone i've been trying to dial in forever is born. when i first stepped into the studio to try it out, i thought there was no way i would pick it. the other amp, which was $300 more, had more of the standard controls plus and extra gain knob wired to a separate tube in the preamp section. i thought for sure this amp, with its versatility, would give me what i want. but it just sounded like a little amp. a very expensive little amp that needed a bigger speaker cabinet. the "z" though, sounded good despite its size.

i dropped my guitar off to be setup, so when i got the amp home i had to "borrow" kelly's Strat to put the amp through more paces. still sounded great. it seems like the amp just "amplifies" your guitar. every guitar sounds different, and this amp just lets that sound come through. LOUD, for 5 watts anyway. so that fact makes me think i should start collecting guitars. [it never ends]. first will be a vintage Jaguar, an obvious choice thanks to dear old dad. then i think i will try an SG, the only gibson i've ever even considered playing.

tonight i also worked out the pipes some more. i'm actually looking forward to tracking the vocals. i wouldn't say i have confidence in my voice, but something somewhat similar is creeping into my consciousness. i think it's called acceptance.

before i leave you, this week i gave money to a subway performer for only the 3rd time in my 15 month NY habitation. happened at the Union Square Q train platform, where i wait probably 7 days out of 7 during the week at some point in the day. it was a one arm jazz keyboardist. he had a right arm, but it was a stub just below the elbow, not much good for tinkling the ivories. but it wasn't pity that led me to give him the last dollar in my wallet [literally]. this guy had chops, and most importantly, some creative ideas. really fluid.

music?*** dead kennedys-fresh fruit for rotting vegetables