Epiphone v Gibson PART II

Haha. I knew this would happen eventually.

The "e" on my Epiphone's pickguard came off for the second time a few days ago, and it's come loose again.

It's a very common problem with the Dot in particular, and I saw it happen a lot when I was reading reviews and trying to decide which guitar to buy.

Well, personally I like the 'e'; although I know some people rip it off so their Dots will look more like ES 335s, but I don't get that. An Epiphone is an Epiphone, why try to make it look like something it isn't? I wanted the Epiphone more than the Gibson, same reason I want the Edwards/Grassroots more than the ESP.

Here's a long-winded explanation why:
You see, one day, while I was wandering around looking for a good coat last autumn, I ended up in a nice, rather swanky part of town. And in this part of town were nice cars. Very nice cars.
I turned a corner and there was a black Alfa Romeo Spider 1 turning the corner badly. Very badly.

Do you know why? There were learner plates on the thing.
Learner plates. On an Alfa.
ON an Alfa.
On an ALFA.
It's... just... why... you... just...
There are no words.

I know, I know, if you have the money, if you want it, just do it.
Which is fair enough...but...
Frankly, knowing that I'm not very good and buying a guitar is one thing, but knowing I'm not very good and buying an extremely expensive, rare, beautiful guitar is another.
I feel like I can't do it justice.

It's like buying a $50,000 Steinway Grand Piano when you can only play Greensleeves.
Or driving an Alfa Romeo Spider 1 when you're on your learner's license.
It's a waste of a beautiful thing.

I like the Dot. I like that I can't really play all that well, and sometimes it does that annoying buzzing thing when I don't bar properly. And I like knowing that the same thing would happen on the Gibson anyway, because it's all down to how I play it.

The instrument is only an instrument. If you're no good, no great instrument is going to make you any better. Trying to compensate with a great instrument is futile.
"Great artists can make beautiful art with even the worst of tools."
My dad told me that when I used to blame my violin (it was actually total shit though).

The Dot is good enough for me. One day, when I get really good, I might upgrade. But who knows? I like the Dot. It's very unassuming. It does its things quietly, without trying to live up to its older brother.
I'm quite proud it's a Dot, and not an ES 335.

Which is why my Dot is lying on my bed, with it's 'e' glued back on, and two books on it to try and flatten the damn thing because it keeps coming off on one end or another. (I switched to some binder clips because the books weren't working)

The Stars Will Go Around And Tomorrow Will Come

"If you can chase your dreams with all your might, it's ok if sometimes all falters.

For the stars will go around and tomorrow will come."

"Nobody knows what the distant future looks like

"Tomorrow" is what you seize today."

Break Down

ギルガメッシュ

Trips And Guitars, Purple Basses and Grassroots.

Despite many years of business majors and accounting papers, this year I realised what my dream really is.

To be honest, I am terrified of working in an office or a company, of climbing the corporate ladder. The idea of being a manager or director scares the bejesus out of me.

I think I would like to give the dreams I had when I was 14 a shot.

It all starts and ends with music.

But don't worry mom and dad, I don't want to be a musician.

Epiphone v Gibson

Plastic Tree - Hanamoete

Ryutaro Arimura

The fact that he plays an Epiphone Dot-335, and not only the Gibson ES-335 makes me respect him even more.

プラスティック・トゥリー　「花燃えて」
有村竜太郎

EDIT: My bad, that's an Epiphone Casino. Point still stands. He can play a Gibson, but he goes with Epiphone. Good man.

So Thin/ Sometime Next Tuesday

He was so thin, the kind of thin that comes from living a reckless life with no heed for taking care of oneself. A life of immediate gratification without any fear or thought of the consequences that come with tomorrow. Wrists and arms that seem to fade to nothing, shoulders that jut out and ribs that slightly show beneath plain t-shirts that no one else could possibly wear - no, own - like that.

And yet still, he slings that guitar around like it weighs nothing with an energy that burns you out the moment you take a breath. So you know that the minute he steps off that bare-yet-hallowed stage, he'll collapse and awaken sometime next tuesday.

But that's not a bad thing, because it means that he throws everything he has at this, at music. Doesn't that make you smile? Make you believe that there are people in this world who care, who believe in their dreams and who have something, anything to live for.

He runs and staggers and dances and sways and god, doesn't everyone look at him like he's some kind of deity? Oh, but isn't that exactly what he is? On this stage, in this crowded noisy, burning live house, with eyes in the crowd blazing with a desire that can't be named, he's basked in a glow that gods crave.

So maybe he's just human any place else, with problems and obstacles and things that just don't work. But not here.

In years to come, I will remember him as the reason I play the guitar, draw eyeliner too thick and paint my bass a purple from my dreams. I will remember him for the way I care about everything and believe in my dreams and how I, small and insignificant as I am, have something to live for.