New Guitar Magazine

[aliensporebomb]

Looks like Jas Obrecht and Tom Wheeler (former GP) have started a new guitar magazine:

www.pureguitarmagazine.com/

Interesting Eric Johnson interview.

[bear]

Lots of the old early-90s GP gang has hands in the first issue. I'm paying attention.

[Infinite Ego]

Hmm. Sorry, but it looks like the same old shit. Marketable guitar culture is conservative, predictable, formulaic, dull, and repetitive. It's like a parody, really. Seriously, the world needs one more EJ interview?

[chromedinette]

I am nonplussed by the first issue, though I am optimistic, since Joe Gore is involved.

[chrissh]

They have the collective pedigree. As much as Premier Guitar satisfies the conventional guitar rag role, I hope this new thing doesn't become another "me too" publication. They could do something special AND entertaining or popular or whatever, keep current models at arm's length.

[Infinite Ego]

Just name it Guitar Consumer and market it to the Gear Page crowd.

[dasein]

I do like this passage in their Son House feature:

It’s an interesting thing about how bluesmen felt about how white people recorded them. When we got to London – ’67, I guess it was – the English Melody Maker and New Music Express and a lot of journalists were there, full of questions. “What’s this you’re saying in ‘My Black Mama’? What are you saying here on this whatever?” And Son would listen to it, and Son would just shrug. And he said, “You know, it don’t really matter, because I would of changed it around the next time anyway.”

You see, a songster – Mance Lipscomb, Mississippi John Hurt – they take a song and they polish it. They take great pride that they do it exactly the same way each time. A bluesman internalizes the material and brings it forth differently. That’s why the Robert Johnson alternate takes are so important, because they show that from minute to minute different songs, different versions, different attitudes. The two versions of “Come on In My Kitchen” are very different. One is soothing, sexual, enticing, inviting. The other version is bold, strident, commanding. And they were done just moments apart.

So Son in London would say, “You know, I done that song this way, but if I come to do it again, I’d have changed them around some. So what you’re listening to was just that one.” And he’s right. In another words, if he had done that song a second take or third take, and the record producer sitting in Grafton, Wisconsin, said, “That’s the take! That’s the one we’re gonna release.” Then the others just melt away, as if they don’t exist. And the arbitrary choice of which version to release is the one that goes forward through the decades. Whereas to the bluesman himself, it was “I’d have done it different a couple minutes before or a couple minutes after. I’d have mixed up the words and done it different. That just is the one that they liked.” In other words, the version that you’re hearing in the 1960s, 35 years after he had done it, only happened to be somebody else’s choice of which version was going to stand forever.

[brucestevens]

Familiar concept:

www.pureguitarmagazine.com/gear/2012/12/03/about-those-expensive-picks/

[chrissh]

Dec 17, 2012 21:09:43 GMT -5 dasein said:

I do like this passage in their Son House feature:

It’s an interesting thing about how bluesmen felt about how white people recorded them. When we got to London – ’67, I guess it was – the English Melody Maker and New Music Express and a lot of journalists were there, full of questions. “What’s this you’re saying in ‘My Black Mama’? What are you saying here on this whatever?” And Son would listen to it, and Son would just shrug. And he said, “You know, it don’t really matter, because I would of changed it around the next time anyway.”

You see, a songster – Mance Lipscomb, Mississippi John Hurt – they take a song and they polish it. They take great pride that they do it exactly the same way each time. A bluesman internalizes the material and brings it forth differently. That’s why the Robert Johnson alternate takes are so important, because they show that from minute to minute different songs, different versions, different attitudes. The two versions of “Come on In My Kitchen” are very different. One is soothing, sexual, enticing, inviting. The other version is bold, strident, commanding. And they were done just moments apart.

So Son in London would say, “You know, I done that song this way, but if I come to do it again, I’d have changed them around some. So what you’re listening to was just that one.” And he’s right. In another words, if he had done that song a second take or third take, and the record producer sitting in Grafton, Wisconsin, said, “That’s the take! That’s the one we’re gonna release.” Then the others just melt away, as if they don’t exist. And the arbitrary choice of which version to release is the one that goes forward through the decades. Whereas to the bluesman himself, it was “I’d have done it different a couple minutes before or a couple minutes after. I’d have mixed up the words and done it different. That just is the one that they liked.” In other words, the version that you’re hearing in the 1960s, 35 years after he had done it, only happened to be somebody else’s choice of which version was going to stand forever.

Choose your representatives wisely?

[aliensporebomb]

I'm waiting for my first interview request. I might talk to them about typing.