My Precious

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My Precious

As someone who has something of an eclectic taste in music I’ve always been interested in other composers equipment and instrument collections. Mostly anything that incorporates strings and wood in some form or other qualifies and for the strange and quirky, even better – so this is a kind of geek corner where I get to show off my collection and tell a little about how I came by it.
    
These are not necessarily the best examples of their kind – a lot of them just turned up when I needed them.

Musical instruments are a bit like people in that they can come in to your life by chance or situation. Like looking to buy a dog in a pound, instead of you making the choice, the right dog - if you let them, will choose you.

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ACOUSTIC:

Yamaha C3 Baby Grand Piano
I first played this piano at the premier Rhinoceros Recording Studios in Sydney in 1986 and loved it. The studios were partly owned by INXS and when professional recording studios in general went into a hole in the early 90’s, Rhino was up for sale and so were the assets. As a result of a fire withina year after the studio had been commissioned, the piano had to be rebuilt shortly after it’s purchase due to smoke damage. The C3 had everyone pounding on it from Elton John and David Bowie, a variety of top local and international classical and jazz pianists down to the lowliest of newbie keyboard players and singer/songwriters (as long as they could afford to record there). Quite a history. As it turned out the band I was in, Models, was managed by the same company as INXS and I was offered the piano at a knock-down price which I jumped at.
    
It has since been a prominent writing and recording tool although I still have not found the perfect recording technique. The best result so far has been by using a matched pair of Neumann KM 184’s in a V formation located just behind the hammers in the middle of the keyboard routed through a pair of AMEK Pure Path Rupert Neive Channel strips. And I still love it’s bright tone (a characteristic of the C3) and worked in feel.

It’s fairly low maintenance and stays in tune  – and that’s a problem according to my piano tech. Surely, not? Apparently, it indicates a dead soundboard meaning it has lost it’s tension and needs replacing. So guitar stays in tune – good. Piano – bad. Seems to me piano technology needs to move into the 21st Century.

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Gamelan
On a trip to Bali with my partner many years ago we went to a couple of gamelan concerts consisting of about forty odd players in the grounds of an ancient palace of the city of Ubud. It was a very moving experience and I decided I had to find out more about the gamelan instruments. We had befriended a local who became our default tour guide. Mardi told us of a gamelan factory located not far from Ubud in the hills. As it was a very old establishment protocol meant I had to have approval to visit and so we arranged a time.
    
We drove into the hills and up a very long track which opened into a kind of quadrangle surrounded by a series of buildings. In these buildings were about thirty craftsmen sitting over foundry’s of molten bronze in preparation for the forging, others ornately carving the beautiful timber frames and in another building a group decorating and assembling the various components to their completion. All  lovingly hand-hewn in centuries old tradition. I decided I had to have one and asked if I could purchase an instrument. As they only produce to order, I made my selection and set off to wait for the call to say I could pick it up.
    
Just before leaving I stopped to ask a few more questions including confirmation of the price.
“Ten thousand dollars”, came the reply.
“U.S.”
    
Apparently, as the word “gamelan” is also used as the collective term they thought I was ordering an entire gamelan ensemble and they were gearing up to knock out an entire orchestra’s worth for me to take back to Sydney. Good thing I checked. The excess baggage would have killed me. They handed me my cheapskate $300 KELONG two days later amidst an air of feckless indifference.

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Dulcigurdy
This was something I came across in an American catalogue of traditional folk instruments around 1998. It was a hurdy-gurdy (which I had a desire of) but even better, it had a chromatically fretted neck attached like a guitar. The three nylon/gut strings could be played individually for soloing (pitch bends entirely possible) by pulling the others up onto the bridge and or could be played together forming chords with the left hand while cranking the wheel like a traditional instrument with the right. Brilliant. One of the most inventive ideas I’ve seen for a traditional acoustic folk instrument. Shortly after I made some enquiries and found that the luthier Nathan Sweet had stopped production. Not brilliant.

I asked around to see if anyone could design and make something similar but they all seemed rather vague about what it was that they would be building so I forgot about it – until on a trip to the States a few years later I discovered Sweet was producing again. Two models, a tenor and a baritone. I ordered the baritone and he built and delivered it to me about six weeks later. It has been featured on several scores where I felt it appropriate and it adds a very specific colour. I hope he builds a bass model. I would grab one in a heartbeat.

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Cedar Flute
While at a North American Pow-Wow I met a Meskwaki Indian by the name of Larry Yazzie Jr. who was a craftsman and player of Cedar flute. He mesmerised us with his playing. Straight form the heart. I asked if I could buy one, he agreed and I learned enough to incorporate it into 2004’s score to ManThing – the Marvel comic anti-hero and vengeful spirit of an Indian murdered at the hands of a greedy oil baron.
A timeless theme to be sure.
    
The legendary and inscrutable Navajo philosopher, singer and flute player R. Carlos Nakai features on the soundtrack singing and playing a variety of antique flutes. He played my flute and sang it’s praises. “It’s okay. Seen worse.” I was delighted.

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Hammered Dulcimer/ Mandola
This large instrument was found in a folk instrument store on the Parramatta Road in Camperdown amidst a swag of accordians of the most roccoco, harmoniums, mandolin and bazouki’s etc.. My kind of shop. The dulcimer was the first instrument built by accomplished Canberra dulcimaestro and instrument builder Gillian Alcock. It is a beautiful instrument overflowing with delicate harmonics that ring forever. It has featured on several scores most prominently on Dead Letter Office which serves as Alice’s gentle motif instrument representing her lifelong  search for her father who left when she was a young child.

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Along with the dulcimer I also discovered a beaten up and world weary Bulgarian Mandola – a lower registered mandolin – which I fell in love with. It has a kind of flat dead tone in that banjo fashion (weird thing is I always hated banjo) and I keep threatening it with replacement by a custom made version which intonates properly, but it is safe for the time being as I always tend to work within it’s limitations.
    
This eclectic little shop has since closed up and disappeared. A great shame.

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G&L Legacy Special
My friend Harvey owns a music store. While waiting for him to get off from one of his interminable phone calls I wandered over to the guitar racks and picked a blonde Strat-like instrument that immediately felt like it had moulded itself around my body. Truly like an extension.
    
Harvey came over, cupping the phone and said to me “I knew you’d pick that one”.
“I haven’t picked anything, “ I said. “I’m just playing”
“You will.”
 And I did.
    
The G&L was a guitar designed by the great Leo Fender in partnership with George Fullerton and was also the last before he died. While it is a little light on the electronic side by way of tonal variation (for my taste, anyway) it is a delight to play because of it’s beautiful neck and balanced body.
    
It’s also great to just run your hands over in that longing fashion that tends to creep out your girlfriend if she catches you.

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Cello
Bought from a violin repair shop in Elizabeth Bay second hand, this Chinese no-name brand was initially an orchestration tool for  formulating parts. Over the years it has grown to be usefull in my recording arsenal even though I am far from an accomplished player. It most recently appearing in the score to Alexander Pearce played in part with Jim Bow (see Lap Dulcimer) as well as traditional horsehair bow. It’s dignity took a battering when I taped various articles to it’s strings and body to give a ” prepared” cello sound for a couple of the cues.
    
I am still looking for a 16.5 inch Viola as an accompaniment to the old cello. On the recommendation from a friend, it has a slightly wider fingerboard which helps me get my piano-players fingers around the strings at the lower end.

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Dan Bao
Most useless instrument in my collection. Never been used in a score because it’s too bloody hard to play.

A silly Vietnamese instrument that my friend Michael brought me as a present from Hanoi. Single string suspended between a plastic/bamboo flexible post enabling it to be “whammied” (pitched) with one hand and picked by the other harmonic-wise (deadened with the palm) with a tiny sliver of bamboo.

Mind you, like most instruments when played by someone who knows what they are doing are capable of moving you to tears. It transformed my opinion of the instrument when I found a clip on Youtube of a Ban Dao player. Tonally similar to the Japanese Erhu it can produce pure emotion and is capable of emulating the seamless pitching of a human voice which of course makes it a perfect accompaniment for (traditionally mostly female) singers. And it’s simple form give it an understated beauty when at rest.
    
It also breaks in half and fits into your backpack in about five seconds meaning the Ban Dao player is the first one at the bar after the gig.

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Yayli Tambur/Cumbus
The Cumbus (joom-bush) and Yayli are Turkish instruments constructed around aluminum bowls from the original moulds built around the early 1900’s in Istanbul by Zeynel Abidin Cumbus (it says so in bold relief on the bowle rim) and are a relatively modern but staple traditional instrument of Turkey. Goat skin was originally used but these days synthetic drum skins are stretched under a floating bridge supporting ten strings strung in octaves attached to a fretless neck. It’s simple construction, roadworthiness and ease of setup make for a good travelling instrument. The sound is flat like a banjo but with the added resonance of the closed shell of a tin can. Sounds hardly enticing when I think about it but it is unique tonally. Of course in the hands of a master it is a gem. I’ll never get close to the technique of used to play these wonderful instruments but their colour of sound shines through with even the simplest musical constructions.
    
The Yayli Tambur is an identical body to the Cumbus but with a very long (so long it’s almost impossible to reach the first fret) loose fretted neck in Turkish scale and therefore a much lower register. The Yayli and Cumbus in fact are so identical that all you have to do to make one instrument morph into the other is to swap necks (and of course, strings) by way of a finger clamp.

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Lap Dulcimer
I bought this from a catalogue from the US having hungered for one for years. A little Black Mountain Redwood lap dulcimer.

Music of the heartland but considered to be one of the original pre-biblical instruments along with psaltery’s, harps and zithers.
    
In the Appellations they are often picked with chicken bones or twigs but recent innovations include lightweight hammers and carbon graphite arcs called Jim Bow’s which are used in a bowing/rolling fashion. The scale is in traditional form but one day I will buy a chromatic in Walnut which will have a darker tone and make it more adaptable  in contemporary scores.

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Djembe
While recording the musicians in Cape Town for the IMAX movie Africa’s Elephant Kingdom I met Robert, a white native multi-instrumentalist South African of Scottish descent. He and his musical partner Adama (who sings so hauntingly on the cue The Bones on the AEK soundtrack CD) were truly inspirational in their performances. We performed together playing a variety of percussion instruments including a marimba which was made from “sneezewood” so called because when sanded it releases fine particles as a result of being hit by lightning in it’s former life as a tree. This hardens the wood making it more resonant and therefore sought after for making musical instruments. The sanding process creates an irritant to the eyes and nose.
    
Robert offered to build me a marimba but he would have to wait for the next lightning storm before he had the material to make the instrument. As I am slightly more pessimistic about the planets aligning in order to grace me with a beautiful hand crafted instrument in time to catch my flight to Seattle 48 hours later, I accepted his offer of a handmade Djembe which was already under construction. The next morning he walked into the studio and sure enough he must have been up all night carving and sanding because his eyes were red. In fact several of the musicians must have been sanding and carving for the entire time we were there judging by their eyes, poor devils.
It is a beautiful drum and like everything else on this page has ended up in one at least one score or another.

ELECTRONIC:

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Voyetra 8
Aah, 1984. Sequential Circuits Prophet V was about five years old and still desirable but their was some new competition from Oberheim and Roland in the non-volatile memory, polyphonic synths that were to revolutionise popular music forever along with the Linn Drum which put fear into every drummers heart that he was to be replaced permanently. And it wasn’t too far from the truth for a short while.

Yamaha’s DX-7 was to hit the stores. Everyone was trying to figure out how they could mortgage their house – or their Mother’s house to buy a Fairlight or Synclavier.
I was working with a band in London who had just received a record deal from EMI so we had the greenlight to buy up before we commenced recording. While I had almost resigned myself to the fact that I would never own a Fairlight I did set my sights on another contender for polyphonic analog synth – the very unique Octave Plateau Voyetra 8 after reading a review in NME traveling on the tube into Air Studios where we recorded our first EP. Designed around a PC motherboard it had a fat warm sound that sat somewhere between Roland’s Jupiter 8 and an Oberheim OB 8. More unique was the modular concept of the petite 66 note keyboard separated from the “brain” which allowed reduced redundancy requiring only software updates and/or cards without having to invest in a brand new instrument.  
    
I tracked down a distributor who was also a rather short-tempered Northener and I believe worked as a sound mixer for Depeche Mode and New Order (who were just starting to break through) and each band had two or three of the units. My first one (about 4000 British Pounds back then) had many teething problems. These were sorted out over the next nine months  after many subsequent trips on the tube risking hernia carting around my brain in a box.

The distributor became increasingly irritated with each subsequent trip to rectify the problems. Soon I was to realise why. I turned up for my usual complain and rectify session bracing myself for another surly encounter but was greeted with a much warmer reception. Perhaps it was due to the fact he had decided to “come out” and sitting behind his desk was resplendant in full drag and make-up. And all without so much as a wink. Business as usual.  
    
A very complex machine (apparently not unlike the guy flogging them), the Voyetra had a multitude of software pages for editing and onboard sequencing (very innovative) which were displayed in Hexa-decimal by a small six segment LED. Regardless of the knobs on the front of the rack unit it was still a daunting task to programme. A few years later they brought out a software package which enabled it to be edited on a PC including access to new sound banks which I ended up losing in a house move. If any one has the software I would love to have access to it –although no doubt it would no longer work on modern OS systems.
    
Unique and sonically powerful but expensive and difficult to programme, it was killed off before it’s time. Mine was eventually converted to a Version 4 and the last build, and after many live performances around the world mine now sits quietly in the studio. The only time it is switched on is to see if my little friend will still wake up.

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ARP 2600
While visiting my with my friend Mick in LA, we drove to the Valley to see Chas from Wall Of Voodoo in 1987 at his house in LA where the band were rehearsing.  As they warmed up their Mini-Moogs I checked out an old  LA Recycler. Lo and behold a guy was selling an ARP 2600 complete with original patch cords just around the corner. The first synth I ever bought when I was about 16 (the guy in the store told me it was built with “space-age technology”) by working part-time in the local supermarket was an ARP Odyssey, the little brother of the modular analog behemoth which I’d always dreamed of owning. It was built in 1972 but still worked perfectly including the internal speakers and built in spring reverb! Although plugin technology has resulted in almost flawless recreation of the instrument it is still great fun to plug it in and tweak to find those really out there patches.

Transporting it back to Australia it was lost in transit along with my suitcase and a Fender Telecaster. Fortunately I got the ARP and Tele back about three weeks later but not the suitcase. The 2600 was manufactured as a two part modular system. Courtesy of Continental Airlines it arrived as a three. The circuit boards were literally hanging out of the broken shell of the timber chassis but after some carpentry it worked good as new.

A pen, paper and  attention to detail are essential in order to recall patches but even then there is no guarantee in this transistor-ised relic. Nevertheless, while seemingly archaic by today’s technology it should be remembered in context that it was only ten years prior that the Doctor Who theme was produced painstakingly note by note, line by line using laboratory oscillators and analogue tape recorders. Admittedly, the ARP owes it’s existence to the brilliant Robert Moog and his massive modular system but the 2600 was an affordable synthesiser with a generous level of complexity but relatively simple to operate. It will hold pride of place in the new studio  where I will have enough room for my other curiosities and museum pieces.

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Waldorf Q
No real story behind this one except that it was the big German flagship of the electronica/dance movement and I wanted one. It’s the equivalent of the Mercedes S Class with it’s massive DCO’s and crisp inyaface filters.  A couple of years after I bought it Waldorf went into receivership leaving many customers without service. Fortunately recently some investors resurrected the company and it is back producing almost the entire range of products. 

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OB8
Oberheims’ OB8 has a very warm well rounded sound from it’s 4 pole filters. I love it’s layout and controller paddles which are still unique amongst keyboard manufacturers. This one came second-hand via an ad in the Trading Post. The guy brought it around, I plugged it in, played it - loved it. Just the way I remembered it when I used to hire it in England a couple of years prior. He wouldn’t take a cheque - cash only - so I walked him to the bank ,withdrew the cash and we parted ways. I then went home to my enjoy my new toy and hit a few notes - no sound. Checked a few settings. Tried some presets, but no luck. The power light was on but no sound. After some trial and error I figured out that if it was turned off and left for 20 minutes it would start up again good as new - that is for about another 20 minutes before it would lock up and turn mute. Great. That’s why the guy wanted cash. As I only played it for about ten minutes it was well inside the window where he knew it would work. Cash sale - no cheque to cancel - you had to admire him. The repair shop said it was likely it had a crack in a solder joint in the motherboard that separated as the temperature increased inside the unit, but no-one at the time had a spare motherboard as Oberheim had ceased production a few years earlier. So I just kept playing it at 20 minute intervals and kind of got used to it. In one way it made me work a lot more efficiently as I had only a very limited time to do what I had to and save it before it’s self imposed curfew came into effect. I bought that keyboard 19 years ago. If I find another motherboard one day I may get around to fixing it.

Or maybe I’ll just advertise it in the Trading Post.