danajohnhill.org

First and foremost, congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Clay on their nuptials – may they enjoy a long and happy life together.

Our weekend in Ormond Beach for their wedding was full of fun with friends.  We drove down on Friday afternoon, making a detour to Orlando to pick up some skates for Miriam.  Traffic on I-4 was miserable, and I cannot believe that people choose to live in that city.  We arrived at our hotel after dark, starving.  Jeff, Sandi and Burt were still an hour and a half away, but we managed to suppress our hunger until they could join us for dinner at Uno, across from Daytona International Motor Speedway, where they were holding some sort of race this weekend.  In fact, the NASCAR engines were loud, and audible across the entire city.

The room situation at the hotel didn’t turn out exactly as we’d planned.  There were supposed to be two rooms, each with a double bed, plus a fold-out couch.  Alas, there was one king bed in a room, a fold-out couch and a separate folding bed.  Sandi slept on the floor.  It was disappointing to all.  But the view from the eighth floor–they called our room “the penthouse”–was nice, and the Atlantic Ocean was roaring and covered in foam.

It was such a pleasure to see Burt again.  I always have a good time when he’s around, since, even if nothing particularly fun is happening, there’s still plenty to talk about; he knows a lot about every conceivable thing.  I cannot wait until our trip to Chicago.

We had meals together at several local establishments, like the aforementioned Uno, plus the International House of Pancakes, where I struggled to get my money’s worth of all-you-can-eat pancakes.  The morning after the wedding we all convened at Berties for brunch.  The waitress emphasized the long wait, but the food was good.  It was kind of special to see the bride and groom, since, in general, it’s a sign of your status as true friend to have newlyweds spend their honeymoon, in part, with you.  We also did some joy riding on the beach, and spent plenty of time lounging in the room, watching videos on YouTube and looking out at the sea.  I put my feet in the Ocean and Jeff fed seagulls.

The wedding itself was smallish, with mostly family and close friends.  I was asked to be an usher, a job for which I had no previous experience.  But there didn’t seem to be any disasters, so, all’s well.  Kathleen cleverly matched her red sweater to the curtains in the room where the reception was held, and Steve looked like a million bucks in a smart brown suit which I covet.   The music was good, as one would expect from Steve.  Their vows were nice, and the music Kathleen walked down the aisle to was a pretty choice, and a cute arrangement.  There was food aplenty at the reception, and much was made of a painting hanging in the room behind the wedding cake, which was delicious.  The photographers set up a room for guests to take pictures, and we naturally made fools of ourselves.  Steve’s parents are exactly the same as they ever were.  It’s a relief to see something stable in this world.  It was also a pleasure to see Dan and Heather and Shannon and Andrew, whom we call “Shandrew”.

That’s a very basic recapitulation of the weekend.  The photos tell the story as well as I can.  Again, huzzah, Steve and Kathleen!

L’Oiseau-Lyre is a record label that specializes primarily in pre-Romantic art music performed on period instruments. They have been around for some time, and have made many fine recordings, both as an independent, and then as part of Decca. But when Decca merged with Philips and Deutsche Grammophon as part of Universal Classics several years back, L’Oiseau-Lyre–like several other fine imprints, including Archiv, Argo, Gimell and others–was essentially dismantled. The bulk of its catalog was deleted, and any reissues were made under the Decca name.

I don’t keep as close track of the classical music recording business as I did even three years ago, but I see now that L’Oiseau-Lyre is back, and some of their titles are being reissued. Some are coming out again on disc, but many others in digital only. My stated opposition to MP3 stands, and I regret that the label would choose this course, especially for the handful of releases I don’t have but wish I did. Nevertheless, it is good to see some activity.

I have dozens of L’Oiseau-Lyre discs in my collection already, many from c.2002 when I was undertaking a Christopher Hogwood-related buying spree. Even then, a vast majority of that label’s titles had already gone out of print, and I did most of my buying on eBay, sometimes spending far more than the discs would have cost new. But my collection is the better for it, and will be better still when I can fill in some gaps with newly reissued L’Oiseau-Lyre recordings.

There is presently a very robust and active segment of the electric guitar market that obsesses over a specific condition of instruments and instrument parts. The condition is “relic”, and I cannot quite grasp its psychological command of buyers’ attention and dollars. Esentially, a “relic” guitar is one that is not old, but made to look so.

“Vintage” guitars are instruments that are old, and show their age in all the typical ways electric guitars eventually do, i.e. chipped, dented, scratched and worn finishes, corrosion and rust on metal parts, etc. Guitars which have seen a reasonable degree of use demonstrate these characteristics after a certain number of years, subject, of course, to the exact amount of play and particulars of the specific instrument. Any 1950s Fender guitar seems to represent the “relic” ideal. Those instruments, however, fetch prices well beyond the means of all but the wealthiest collectors. Professional guitarists like Ron Wood may play a 1958 Stratocaster (and have a 1954 as a spare!), but pre-1968 Fenders (and old Gibsons, too) are astonishingly expensive, so to own one requires a major financial commitment. If the value of something can be measured solely by how much someone will pay for it, then vintage guitars are a wise investment: between the mid-1980s and 2002, the three major stock market indexes gained about 356%; over the same period, a 1959 Les Paul gained well over 1150% in value, and will sell for close to $300,000 today. A savvy investor would dump all their stocks and even their real estate and invest in vintage guitars.

Now, I can understand a person wanting to own one of these old, vintage instruments. But I cannot understand a person deliberately purchasing a new guitar, and damaging it to make it look old. Yet, Fender has a Custom Shop which, in addition to making new instruments for professional guitarists, also makes “relic” guitars for the wider market. You can buy one of these old-looking, new guitars for over $3,000, or buy a new-looking, new equivalent for less than half that.

Meanwhile, the impostor relic market is also strong, with many eBay sellers auctioning off guitar bodies and necks that they bought new, and sanded and scraped themselves, and now sell to customers online. One can pay over $100 more for an abused-looking after market neck than for an otherwise identical pristine version. It seems crazy, doesn’t it?

My theory is this: In a society in which it is far more important to be perceived as being something than it is to actually be that something, people are willing to fool even themselves and pretend they are what they are not. People want to feel like rock stars. It’s understandable; after all, they rock and roll all night, and party every day. But Guitar Hero is make believe. And, although having a beat up looking guitar might subconsciously make you feel like a guitar hero, it doesn’t make you a good player. Rather, it is the essence of poserdom.

Are you influenced by advertising? Do you feel that it connects with you on a regular basis?

I am not, and I feel that it does not. There are three possible explanations for this:

1. I am set in my ways as a consumer, and most marketed products do not interest me. Or,
2. Advertisers generally do a poor job crafting a message that resonates within me. Or,
3. I am simply out of touch.

I concede the first point. Indeed, I am practically an old man in that regard. I don’t feel a need to own an iPhone or a Swiffer Duster, since I already have a mobile phone, and can dust perfectly well with a rag. The flip side of this is that I do not need to be “sold” on products I know I like. As far as I am concerned, Coca-Cola never needs to spend another penny on advertising; I’m going to buy their magical elixir until I die (possibly from diabetes).

I reject the third point, since advertising, by its very nature, is supposed to be convincing, or, at the very least, informative. Motion picture trailers, for example, are not designed to appeal to everyone, just as every movie released was not produced to suit the tastes of every theater-goer. But everything being sold isn’t as awesome as advertisers would have you believe. In fact, most people could really do without many of the things they have been sold via advertising. For example, I know for a fact that you do not need another credit card. And what useful products are being marketed are often pitched in a profoundly unappealing way. That brings me to my second point, and the one I think is most accurate.

Despite of an increasing number of genuinely funny commercials and visually stimulating ad campaigns selling all manner of products I nevertheless do not wish to buy, advertisers still cannot manage to effectively market items I do want in a way that I find appealing. Case in point: Fender guitars. I really, really like Fender guitars, and endeavor to own many. I read about them, and look at pictures of them, and, in general, daydream about them constantly. So you would think that the Fender Musical Instrument Corporation would have no problem crafting a message that would appeal to me directly. Yet, they do.

The International Music Products Association’s 2008 convention is being held this weekend in Anaheim, and, as always, Fender is an important participant. Fender has been at NAMM–that’s what the convention is called–for decades, and has made major product announcements there, including the introduction of the Jazzmaster in 1958. This year they unveiled the new American Standard series of their most popular guitar models, the Stratocaster, Telecaster, Precision Bass and Jazz Bass. Coincidentally, I have played these models already, at Lipham’s Music here in Gainesville, and I am impressed by some of the improvements and modifications, particularly the finishes on the all-maple necks, and the bridges on the basses and Strat.

But watch the first few minutes of Fender’s NAMM press conference, and see how lame Justin Norvell, the senior marketing manager of electric guitars is.

I get the feeling–and this may be totally wrong, but it is the impression I get–that he doesn’t even play guitar. Worse, he talks like he’s on The Apprentice. He’s got a consciously hip, corporate taint about him.  Obviously, I don’t know Mr. Norvell personally, and he may be the nicest guy on earth.  But I don’t trust people who talk like that to sell me anything. Wisely, Fender does include endorsements from many prominent players. Indeed, Fender has another video featuring G.E. Smith discussing the Telecaster. That is the sort of advertisement that I can respond to.

So, if I could offer Fender some advice it would be this: drop the buzzwords, stop trying to sound like a hip guy version of Lindsey Neagle. Everyone knows Fender’s reputation and legacy. That isn’t in question. The hard rock and metal guys are going to stick with their Gibsons and Jacksons. Let them. Don’t pander. Just make good guitars, show them close up in all their available colors, give us some sound clips on your webpage. That’s all I want.