The Last Bass Outpost

As a thank you to George, and a nod to Tony and Uwe, one of my proper Sci-Fi shorts, previously unpublished... approx 3,400 words on the 20,000 limit

The short story medium is something I excel at...

I hope you enjoy this one...


"Crusade"

By Ken Stewart

(All rights reserved)

   Well, what have you got to say for yourself?
I jumped.
You never expect that voice…
Not at anytime; not under any circumstances, especially when it comes from within your own head…
‘My my, I am honoured,’ I blustered, ‘you’re a long way off the beaten path.’
    I asked you a question…
The soundless voice within my head, so deep and menacing as to be capable of stilling the very workings of a star…
… Please do me the courtesy of answering...
‘Well, you know me, I have these uncontrollable rages you see; part of my being, my outlook on this thing you call life…’
I paused at the thought of the word, the shock of saying it out loud causing a chill to run the very length of my spine…
‘Life, oh how I loathe it...’
    Can you possibly spare me the diatribe…?’
I jumped again.
‘I am sorry, forgot you were there for a moment… for that matter, how…’
    Do not forget that you are, at this point, “alive”...
I flinched at the power of the words, but forced myself to continue…
‘Alive! The merest mention of the word sends me into apoplexy,’ spoken harshly, and then in an almost soundless undertone, ‘unless I can use it for my own means…’
    HARRUMPH…
The very base of my skull shook…
    You can push too far on occasion…
‘Sorry, force of habit old chap, hmm?’
    Yes, indeed…
‘But what of myself; reduced to this from what I was, reduced to a lev...’
    I know very well what you now are and what you once were…
‘Pity? Pity! Oh please spare me your pity…’
    You fell so very far…
‘And from what I hear not far enough; and you, you, with your caring ways…’
There was the distinct feeling of exhalation of breath, as from someone very weary of the same circumstances being repeated, ad nauseum.
‘… oh very well… self pity has also not been one of my virtues, but one does ones best…’

‘Void… nothingness... perfect…’
I stood motionless at a Vu, looking out…
‘The joy beyond words of being out of reach; the freedom of freedom, with no one to answer to, and the thought, oh the thought, of the havoc that I could wreak on an oh so unprotected world…’
I paused and began to frown.
‘But then the same old doubts creep in, the insecurity, the little demons feeding on the edge of my psyche, the… I must stop talking to myself, do you hear me!’
I stood with my fists clenched, bellowing at the void beyond the Vu. I was getting close to term, and my hunger pangs were insatiable; the nearness of the system where I knew life existed…
    Oh sweet precious life for the taking…
I spun round with a start at a distant sound, and paused...
‘What was that…?’
My reverie smashed…
‘That’s it again!’
I then felt an almost imperceptible vibration where there should have been none. I rushed from the Vu back to the controls, eyes scanning everything for the slightest discrepancy.
‘Mass… the mass can not have increased?’
    This does not make sense, not any sense at all…
And then I spotted it…
‘NO!’
If I had not been so entranced by the proximity of that new and vibrant world…
I closed my eyes briefly as a shiver ran the length of my body; I looked wistfully towards the system…
    So near and as yet so far…
I scanned for a local com-lock and immediately broadcast to it.
‘This is Captain Ledasez of the Interstellar Merchant Fleet…’
    Well… I am using his body, so it is not that far from a statement of fact…
‘What you are doing is an act of unprecedented piracy…’
    … so, I will choose to ignore my ever so slight pot blacking…
‘I demand that you detach yourself at once, whomsoever you may be, or I will have no alternative but to contact the authorities…’
I cut the connection.
‘That told them…’
And then almost as an afterthought…
‘… although that vessel could not be carrying anything more than a pilot…’
The Vu showed a small scout craft, clamped to the hull near one of the cargo hold emergency escape pod.
Obviously military in design…
    Sleek, fast and long range; everything I had been seeking but had been unable to obtain in the limited time available…
The only thing it appears to lack is armament, but then again, that is not always a necessary requirement for engagement with the enemy, or a sign of a true lack of weaponry…
I continued to study the Vu…
‘Hi Lu…’
A voice came over the sounder that I did not know, but instinctively recognised for what it was, subtle tonal qualities evident; a voice I had not heard for a long time, a very long time indeed.
‘Perditions flames…’
The shock was complete.
    This I do not need…
I took a deep breath.
    Be calm, be calm, all is not lost…
‘Well, this does come as a surprise…’
A pretty lame response but it was all I could think of in the circumstances.
‘… long time no see. How did you fi… no, don’t bother, stupid of me to have mentioned it in the first place.’
‘May I come on board?’
    That voice, so sickeningly silky…
‘… after all, I have travelled such a long way.’
I declined.
‘I am so sorry, but I am in no fit state to entertain at this time…’
    Must stall, must stall for time.
‘… oh but do call again, in a Millennium or two...’
‘I thought not, but no harm in maintaining the niceties, yes?’
‘Indeed… So, what form have you taken? Just curiosity, you understand.’
‘Yes, I do understand. I have taken a Human female form, opposite to you.’
‘Interesting... so you are behaving no different than I…’
‘It was necessary… for the greater good.’
I winced at the word but continued with the banter.
‘Well, for such a cause, I don’t suppose you would entertain a little foreplay…?’
‘Why, how kind of you, but I do not suppose I would entertain your crude imagination for long.’
‘Crude? Crude? I have been an entertainer of the willing for Millennia, as you know only too well. I may be mischievous, cunning, conniving, vicious, nefarious, purely coldly evil, but never, never crude. I consider myself to have style beyond your imaginings...’
‘Vanity was always a weak point with you.’
‘As it is with most…’
I watched carefully for any movement around her vessel.
    You can not enter mine without leaving the confines of the vessel you are in…
‘What exactly do you have in mind, my little Nemesis?’
‘Your demise, my old friend. You have run your course; served your purpose; it is time for your return to us, where you can be controlled.’
I spotted the tell-tale venting of gasses from the blind side of her vessel; tiny crystals from an imperfect vacuum to a near perfect one.
    The untrained eye might have missed that, but oh not me.
‘And how do you intend to achieve that?’
‘By negating you.’
A suited figure emerged and headed for the hatch.
    It will not be possible to stop you getting into the cargo area…
    But it could be possible to stop you within the vessel…
‘You could no more negate me there than I could your Master; there are rules and you must live by them…’
‘I would only work within them, you know that too. I will only do what I must do: openly, honestly and efficiently.’
‘Well, what have you got to say for yourself, hmm?’
‘We are opposed dimensionally… I presumed you would have understood what I said. It is a mark of how far I would be willing to go to negate you?’
    Ah… that could change things a bit, but you still can not enter, can not get to me, and I will not let you...
‘But you would have to be within this vessel and I have not inv...’
‘WARNING! WARNING!’
I jumped at the sound of Control and span round towards the source.
‘Shut up!’ I shouted at the speaker, but it continued.
‘EMERGENCY HATCH SEVENTEEN!’
‘Shut up!’
‘… OUTER DOOR ACTIVATED AND LIFEBOAT BAY DEPRESURISING!
‘SHUT… UP…!’
Silence descended once again…
I returned to the Vu’s to find her momentarily obscured by the now open hatch
‘Inside your vessel, old friend? Within the same room as you? In contact with you? Touching your flesh?’
The hatch started to close and I could no longer see her suited figure
‘YOU… CAN… NOT… ENTER…!’
I knew the rules of engagement perfectly; it could not be done without my implicit permission.
‘Yes… I… can… and… I… will… you have invited this upon yourself.’
I sputtered in almost righteous indignation…
‘I did no such...’
And then it struck home…
‘No…’
What I had done, what have I done…
‘… foreplay...’
The word barely a whisper on my lips.
I wailed at floor…
‘DAMNATION, DAMNATION, DAMNATION, DAMNATION, DAMNATION…’
    How could I have been so STUPID…?
‘You have been known to be over-eager on occasion my dearest friend.’
    Too eager at the thought of gutting you my dear…
    Oh what to do now…
‘But does it have to be this way?’
    Move on, move on… damage limitation from here, unless…
‘You yourself have been known to be rebellious.’
‘I am but a servant of my Masters, and though I may strain at the leash, I obey their commands…’
‘Why accept the orders? You could be so much more...’
    Okay; well, you’re in, but I can see you goody-two-shoes…
She was in, in clear view on the security system, walking out of the now closing inner hatch of door seventeen. I had locked down all the inner doors; an emergency function on all ships to preserve life in the event of cataclysmic depressurisation, but the emergency hatches are all independent, all potential lifeboats, with Trans beacons, but these could be overridden with command codes in certain circumstances, and it appeared that she knew those…
‘Without order there is chaos.’
‘Without a little chaos, life would be such a boring event…’
    … and this moment certainly is not…
‘You should not have taken this form.’
I shrugged my shoulders, meaninglessly, as it was not possible for her to see me. I looked around the cabin for some form of weapon I could use to dispose of my old adversary. This was a civilian vessel in times of peace, in a secure system: unarmed.
‘I was bored; life had become… well, nothing but a cage. You have seen the way they are; you know exactly what I am trying to say… well… you know, don’t you?’
‘I…’ there was a momentary hesitation in the voice, ‘understand; but that does not change our circumstances.’
‘You always were an obsessive. No sense of humour.’
Time…
‘You left; you were fully aware of the consequences; you knew you could not be allowed to survive elsewhere.’
‘Well… how about us going back? I’m game if you are, well?’
Time to think…
‘No…’
‘That sounded pretty final... Not a lot of room for discussion is there..?’
Time to think; there must be something…
‘I only need to touch you my friend.’
‘Which will result in the demise of us both…’
    … when I only need yours right now my little beauty…
‘That is as it was ordered.’
‘Orders, orders!’
    You weakling… you SICKEN me…
‘It is our way. It has always been our way. You know this...’
‘You cease, I cease; this is what you want…?’
I fumed, but I had to remain calm; I fought to keep a clear head, to clear the mist before my eyes…
‘The balance is maintained; there must be balance for order to be maintained.’
‘Balance? How can the destruction of us both maintain a balance other than us both being dead?
‘Dead? Of all people…’
‘Okay,’ I conceded, ‘an oversight, “returned”.’
‘Indeed. The balance is maintained. Do you not see the ultimate truth in this?
‘I never did enjoy conundrums or puzzles, especially if set by the likes of you...’
    That’s it! That is it!
    Of course!
‘Oh… to think you could say such a thing…'
    … and not an ounce of sarcasm in a single one of those words…
‘So sorry if I offended you…’
    … as if…
    I only mean to remove you from your mortal coil… nothing more, nothing less…
I frantically searched the command board as she moved on through to the main cargo hold…
‘My, my, I must presume that this is the remains of the original crew?’
‘Humans are so fragile…’
‘… especially in the occurrence of sudden vacuum and sub zero temperatures…?’
    Some of them nearly took a minute to die…
    … such bliss…
    … such pain…
‘… what of it?’
‘Very messy; I guess I should be grateful for gravity.
‘Now there’s a thought!’
‘What to do with you my old friend…? One atrocity after another...’
‘Au contraire mon amie, in many cultures such things would be considered high art.’
‘Ma amie, feminine, not masculine; please remember my gender.’
‘Oh thank you so much for correcting me, my dearest Nemesis.’
    You are so damned precise BITCH…
‘You are welcome.’
‘Charmed, I’m sure…’
‘You may consider it to be art, but not here, not in these enlightened times…’
Found it…
I released all the doors and opened the emergency bulkheads.
She paused…
‘What are you up to my old friend, leaving me with free access?’
… and then walked on.
‘Oh really?’
I ignored her…
‘I would so enjoy enlightenment, old friend; your actions appear to be those of stealth and deceit; I am impressed, I truly am.’
    Got you…
My oldest adversary was now heading for a bulkhead hatch where I had overridden the safety protocols.
Powers or no powers, in that body, in these circumstances, you have limitations…
‘But I am your friend...’
‘Friends do not destroy each other needlessly.’
    A little closer my dear…
‘It is necessary.’
‘Not in my opinion.’
    A few more steps, only a few more…
‘Your reasoning is not valid.’
‘I value my existence, do you not? I feel very attached to it. I have enjoyed the use of this body. I do not wish to give it up.’
    Slowly slowly catchee monkey; or anything else stupid enough to put their hand in the bottle…
‘But you must; it is not yours to enjoy the use of.’
‘What right do you have to be Judge, jury and executioner?’
‘I am not a Human but I use this body; it was the most appropriate I could acquire at short notice. Your demise required urgency. Your demise will release many you have tormented, many you have deceived.’
‘How can you be so sure it was I that committed any deed you may think I am guilty of?’
‘If a path is followed, it leads to a destination.’
    Can’t argue that one…
She paused again…
    NO… A little further…
… and awaited my reply.
    Move BITCH…
‘Well, nothing to say…? I had expected better from you…’
‘We all have our off days…’
    MOVE…
‘Indeed, my old friend, you are obviously out of practise…’
    … just one more step forward…
    YES…
I hit the switch and the door crashed shut.
It was a bulkhead separator of immense strength; it could cut steel, but not flesh, in normal circumstances…
‘A noble gesture my dear, a sacrifice for the greater evil…’
   Yes, yes, YES…
I slapped the control panel in sheer unadulterated joy.
The ship shook soundlessly…
‘Wha..’
The alarm klaxon calling loudly in my ears caused me to flinch involuntarily. I felt a drastic lurch, as if the carpet had been pulled out from under my feet, and was thrown to the floor.
‘ENVIRONMENTAL SYSTEMS DAMAGED! GRAVITY HAS PITCHED DOWN 3 DEGREES, ROLLED PORT 4 DEGREES! RECOVERY IS BEING ATTEMPTED!’
‘Well well; your passing did not go unnoticed… now SHUT UP!’
I pulled myself off the floor, punching up the Vu for hatch seventeen to where the wreckage of what remained of her vessel was drifting away, and secured myself into the Pilot Prime’s seat.
‘Smart; but not enough?’
It worried me that the damage was so minimal. There was too much major debris in visible range of the Vu.
    She had obviously set up a mutual death switch, just in case…
‘Maybe the destruct system was faulty, hmm?’
    Maybe I just got lucky…
‘WARNING! STRUCTURAL FAILURE IMINENT IN CARGO BAY SEVENTEEN!
    Here we go…
‘WARNING! ENVIRONMENTAL SYSTEM PRESENTLY UNABLE TO RESET GRAVITY CAPSULE!
‘Modern technology…’ I muttered.
‘WARNING! HULL BREACHED!
‘Well, shut down?’
‘WARNING! EMERGENCY SAFETY PROTOCOLS OVERRIDDEN!’
‘What the…’
I scanned the board to see what had happened, and suddenly realised that my clever trap could not be undone by one person
‘WARNING! CRITICAL DEPRESSURISATION IN OCCURRENCE!’
‘NO!’
I released myself, slid over to the bridge exit and headed for the bridge bulkhead.
‘WARNING! ASPHYXIATION WILL OCCUR WITHOUT PROTECTIVE SUITS!’
‘SHUT UP!!’
Central Core took no notice of me, as it should from where I was. Again I was thrown aside, but this time it felt like my intestines were being twisted and put through an ancient wringer.
‘WARNING! PRECESSION IS OCCURING TO GRAVITY CAPSULE! RECOVERY IS BEING ATTEMPTED!’
I headed for a door as I suddenly realised that if the track of the present environmental failure continued this corridor would become a deep shaft before I could reach the bulkhead overrides.
‘WARNING! DRIVE COMPARTNENT INTEGRITY CONTROLS DEFECTIVE! RECOVERY IS BEING ATTEMPTED!
‘What…?’
This was not what I wanted to hear. I lunged at the door frame and clung on whilst the gravity of the vessel arced through the vertical. As soon as it was safe I let go and slid the remainder of the way, slamming into the wall just above the bulkhead door controls, and hit the switch. The bulkhead door slammed shut sealing me off from the rest of the ship, the area starting to repressurise, and then waited for a way to return to the bridge.
‘WARNING! DRIVE COMPARTMENT INTEGRITY PROTOCOLS MUST BE RESET MANUALLY!’
I put my head in my hands as I perched on the frame and screamed at the floor which had become a wall…
‘WARNING! DRIVE COMPARTMENT INTEGRITY WILL BECOME CRITICAL IF NOT RESET WITHIN FIVE MINUTES!
‘What else is going to go wrong?
    This is not what I need to hear…
I had to wait for twenty two precious seconds for the precession to bring the structure round to become a floor again. Scrambling back up and into the bridge I slammed myself back into the Pilot Prime seat; strapped in.
    Now I feel more secure...
I started the procedures to reset the integrity of the vessel.
‘Drive system integrity will be within safety margins in three minutes…’
Central’s normal com voice was a pleasant sound.
‘Recommend shutting down gravity capsule.’
‘Do it.’
Central responded to my demands.
The feeling of relief on my body as weightlessness occurred, removing the disconcerting wrench of the precessing gravity capsule.
‘Reboot your system as soon as…’
‘WARNING! GENETIC MATERIAL IN DRIVE BAY ENVIRONMENT!’
‘What? Not possible… nothing lives on this vessel…
There must be a sensor error…?’
‘ENVIRONMENT PURGE IN PROGRESS!’
‘It must be an error; nothing can exist in that environment…?’
‘Sorry to disappoint you Lu…’
Time ceased to have any meaning with the sound of that voice coming over the com.
‘You are gone; that body is paste, dead, I saw it pulverised before my eyes.’
I was numb…
‘This was a one way trip for us Lu.’
    You did not come alone…?
    You BITCH, you did not come alone…
    You expended everything to carry another…
‘I only required a distraction to allow me time to carry out my work...’
‘No…’
‘… which is nearly finished'
‘No, no, no…’
‘You chose to assume that my voice was coming from where you could see my aide.’
‘No!’
‘My time is up old friend...’
‘NO!’
‘My last Crusade…’
I manually red-lined the drive and headed for the atmosphere; It was my only chance; this planet was teeming with life. I would survive the impact but I could not survive a drive implosion…
‘Goodbye, old friend.’
I dropped to my knees…
‘Forgive me Father…’
‘It is a little too late to repent this time my old friend…’
‘… for I have sinned…’
‘…and now it is time to join with me in Perditions flames...’
‘Oh well, had to try…’
‘Any last words Lu?’
‘Last words? Last words? Hmm, how about…
‘WARNING! DRIVE BREACHED’
‘… F*CK YOU GABRIEL! FU...’

George, you diamond in the dust...!

I got home on Friday to discover that some "Mud" had been pushed through my letterbox, in a US Postal Box, safe-and-sound...

... and I am still grinning ear-to-ear...

I have "offered-her-up" to my Tequilabird and found some mods will be required to fit (most notably the inner/lower mounting, which will not fit) which will require minor works... this will result in the Mudbucker fitted in the neck position under her chrome cover...

now I have a dilemma...

As those unfortunate enough to have seen close-ups of my 'bird will know, she has had a rough life and is in need of some S. E. R. I. O. U. S. T. L. C.
And George's kind donation to the Kenny Rehabilitation Support Group (along with Uwe and Tony "Tube") has resulted in a dilemma of gross maginitude...


here's a clue...


got it yet...?


O. M. G. - GOLD Thunderbird hardware, a BLACK RD Artist pup, and a CHROME Mudbucker...

Talk about "CLASH OF THE TITANS" - what do I do now...?

... at least it means the time for the "TEQUILABURST" is nigh, with a strip and refin imminent...

Guys and Gals, yeah though I walk through the valley in the shadow of F*nd*rs, I need your help to guide me out of this...

The goatee has met it's demise...

It's my wife's birthday in the next few days and she hated it, but now I have to contest with my daughter blaming her mum for my GI crop (still no "clean shave" since the day before I got married in 1989) of the face, along with the rest - "... but your head looks all squashed now dad..."

I can always grow it back...

What about you...?

ps. My second anniversary...! Just noticed that I have passed the 2 days total time logged on to the LBO...!

oops... that won't get me any bonus points... gotta go now...

Long ago, January 1942 in fact, a chap called Roy Plomley started a programme called Dessert Island Discs... the idea was to choose 8 records a luxury item and a book, to take with you to a dessert island - the format remained popular and still runs to this day...

Now how would it relate to us, here...?

Okay, how about this scenario... You would be supplied with a fridge (solar power being an agreed item) filled with libations of your choice (that never seemed to empty), a permanant satelite uplink to the LBO, and no escape...

You could take with you an Ipod with TEN CD's uploaded (only one per artist with a brief explanation as to why), an instrument of your choice (amps and cabs laid on, solar powered, of course) and 2 books (apparently the Bible and the Complete Works of Shakespeare are always available...), so what would be your choice...?

I'll start off...

Allman Brothers Band - At Filmore East (deluxe) - Duane and Berry and Dickie and Gregg and Butch and Jaimoe, playin' their hearts out... hittin' LOTS of notes...
Vangelis - Blade Runner soundtrack - "I've seen things you people would not believe..."
Foo Fighters - Foo Fighters - Alone/easy target just has meaning for me...
Sarah McLachlan - Fumblin' towards Ecstasy - got stuck here a whiles back, not sure if I made it out alive...
Deep Purple - Made In Japan - "I want everything louder than everything else"; the second greatest live album of all time...
Grand Funk Railroad - Live Album - mindless trash... love it...
Don Henley - Inside Job - damn it Rose, "there not here, there not coming"
Robert Johnson collection - sometimes you GET the blues...
Rush - T4E - just perfection...
Gustav Holst - Planet Suite - just to be played late at night when I'm feeling mellow...

Instrument would have to be my Ibanez V302 12 string, which was a 21st present from my parents - I'd e tune her and learn to play the blues like they oughta be played, when you're starvin', destitute, an' lonesome; don't need no amps, and I'd find a bottleneck or 2 in the fridge...

Dune by Frank Herbert - without any doubt, the greatest work of Science Fiction written, if I could write something considered half as good I'd be at peace...
Lord of the Rings (trilogy edition)- the fantasy equivalent of the above...

Well, just going for a walk round the Island to see what the tides brought in...


a Hebridean Island beach...

Here I go, pushing the envelope once again...


Comrades of the LBO...

Yep, 21 years... my goodness, doesn't the time fly past Sentient inhabitants...

Well, started early with a "GI crop" and a card from my daughter, wishing me luck...


Something for the Valve-Heads here...

Part of the message inside says, "Wishing the best of luck for your first gig since the stone ages!" She has her father's sense of the ironic...


Soundcheck went well and ran thru the set, with 2 songs played thru once more, then went home to change for the gig...

As my attire has come under close scrutiny and as this gig was to celebrate the "Child of '59" and as our drummer, Nick,  hit 50 earlier in the week with me rolling past in June and our guitarist/singer, OCP in August (keyboard player, Louis, a mere 40 year old) it has not gone un-noticed that Barbie has just rolled past, too...

Now, I want it clearly known that any connection with my name and a certain popular girls plaything's partner is entirely coincidental and has no bearing on the following...

...Tonight, Ken will be wearing an "exceptionally tasteless" Disney styled "Aerosmith - Rock 'n' Rollercoaster" top... white "vintage" Levi 501's, one size too small for present waistline... white M&S "exceptionally vintage - know their own way home" trainers... and a Tilley hat that got lost at Canaveral and made it's own way home... hair, a delightful shade of blue and green, by Roshina...


Now we've got that out of the way, whinge to your hearts content...

Nick's plan was an "Eighties" themed night with an invited audience of approximately 80 friends/colleagues/family and numerous parties really went for it with several dubiously attired females, several Ozzy's, a smattering of Rod Stewart's circa "do you think I'm sexy" (not), et-al, then plying them with alcohol and food and canned music, followed with a 9 number set featuring material from our last pub gig in '88 (7 originals and 2 covers) and it worked...!

I was detirmined to use all three of my basses (and my SG was OCP's back-up and his preference has always been my "Jack"), they had been "resting" for too long, so split the set up as follows...


Full Color Co-ordination... T'bird, shirt, and the goatee was green/blue - my daughter, Roshina's, idea... much to my wife Jackie's disgust, it washed straight out - it would have had to be cropped off for Monday, otherwise...

oh yes... FYI, I gave our FUJI-602 to my daughter, Roshina, to snap away from both edges of the stage as much as she liked and, unfortunately, the function switch got knocked, probably by me, onto the P for programmable option so these shots all have a bit of motion...  She is usually pretty good with the camera, especially with the instruction "point-and-click" - she took nearly 400...!
If anyone else among the crowd has some crisp shots 'll post at a later date...


I started off the set with the Tequilabird (tm), being inarguably the most striking instrument I own... We opened with a number entitled "Into the '80's", followed by "One in a million" and "All I want to do, (is be with you)", which features a nice chunky rolling bassline which I've always associated with the sound a steam-engine running full tilt might make, not thrash, just rolling on thru...


... OCP - "So, while Ken changes his instrument, and if anyone can think of what he should change it for, please let us know..."

Next up came the fretless RD for an instrumental called "Do the hamster" (hamster? don't ask...) - a slightly funky/jazzy number where I get to work-out...


On with the "Jack" next - I can understand why "The Official Chris Page" likes this instrument's sound; I run her with no tone control, both pots full on and both EMG-Select Passive pups and she does have a wonderful "growl", as I've said elsewhere, this is a phenomenal instrument for a budget...


"Me, and my shaaaa-dough... the Hiwatt DR103-SWITCH and Marshall 3x12 enjoyed their outing...

Chris pointed out that, "At this rate we'll be 71 before we play another gig..." and I pointed out that Louis would, "Only be 61..."


"Louis the Kiwi Keys" - will be a great loss to us when he returns to the country of his birth with his family later this year - anyone in Auckland, keep on the lookout - you'll be gaining a great key-smith b4 Xmas...! He went to the top of the hit parade when my daughter discovered you could get his CD on I-tunes...

... Anyway, next up was a novelty, which is not; I have always considered it to be one of our best numbers, but as it has novelty issues OCP has always held it back and played it under duress; Nick's boy's would have lynched him if we didn't play it so we segued it into the beginning of "Hold On"... the song is called "Armadillo" - "there's an armadillo, on my pillow..." and Chris writes great hooks, always has done, but lacks belief in his own abilities; we do our best to persuade him otherwise...


OCP - "Am I in tune...?" he looks like he enjoyed himself...


"No FP, No Comment..."

... So we rolled on into the old Sam-and-Dave number, "Hold On (I'm Coming)" which does have a Bee-U-tiful bass-line that just roll and rolls...
Next up was "Mony Mony", which I sort of chord thru... fun though... noisy...


Some ladies did a "tom Jones" and Nick was showered with skimpy items...

... So back on with the RD for our last number which is entitled "Every time I see her", which is a number we never recorded, much to OC's regret, possibly one of our best, next to "All I Want..."

Nick made a good speech to the crowd and then asked the audience if they would like us to play another, or at least a repeat, which got a good reaction, so we played "All I Want..." again, this time on RD...


an arty shot of the RD in full flow...


the goatee fails to hide my rounded chin whilst "killing them not so softly" with my bgv's...


and then it was over...The amps were shut down and the lights dimmed...

All that remains is a "ringing in the ear (and I think it's the call of the wild...)", a great memory and a reasonably good live recording via the video, at least according to my wife and daughter. as I have not had the time to run through it yet... (ran my daughter home with the head and guitars and they watched it...). There was a lot of praise, I even had another drummer complementing me on my great playing (which did nothing for my ego... ).
How good was the whole night...? the general concensus was "Please sir, can we have some more...?" so watch this space...

Now then, this has been a fairly straight posting, but up to my usual eleven on a ten scale when it comes to volume, as you would expect, as I like to write as a sideline to the day-job, but if you would like some serious wierdness I'll post another story in the cafe... how about some properly humerous Sci-Fi, not fantasy like the last one (not my usual genre - Uwe, the "Bicycle repair Fietsen - look how he tightens his nuts...!"), I have a nicely twisted one called "Moonshine", a short story that spawned an unfinshed novel called "Scotch On The Rocks"...

ps did you get this far Rob...? I'm still working thru the BaCHbird...

In the late seventies a friend was selling his SG Special, a Hiwatt and a Marshall cab, and I picked them up as a job lot, paid for over a few months, making my Gibson tally 2, which remains the same to date...

Anyway, during 1979 his partner (nicknamed "Mouse") randomly asked to look at one of my picks, which were logo'd Gibson type, and then asked if she could keep it... I didn't argue or question her reasons for wanting it (far too dangerous...) but about a month or so later this arrived in my hands as a gift from them both...



It's not a perfect copy but is the same size as a standard pick, slightly thicker than a heavy, and made out of solid silver... I used to wear it pretty much all the time but when the chain broke some years back it transfered to a gold chain with a cross my wife gave me - after a series of accidents with broken chains and after nearly losing both I presently don't wear them at all, but I think of it as quite an unusual trinket... never seen one like it... I think she used to think of me as the big, little brother she never had, so liked to spoil me from time-to-time...

Anyone else got anything Gibson orientated but out of the ordinary out there...?

Well people out there in the LBO, here goes...

This is a story of an instrument that I have mistreated over the years and is only an honourary T'bird, though I will await reaction to this point and will happily shift or delete this post if there is a strong negative reaction, which is possible, once you see her...

First off, I'm new to this sort of thing, although I hit the big five-ohh later this year...

The names Ken (oh really...? I thought that was just a pseudonym, like "Klinikly Eb-Norml Sukka" or sum sutch fing) I live to the south-west of London, though I would prefer to be living on the West-Coast of Scotland, but that's off topic... These days I'm married with a lovely super-smart teenage daughter (not proud-dad-syndrome, just the truth) and all the usual bills to pay, do the day-job thing and strive towards the first book publication (Military History, re Chindits and Burma WW2 - family links; and also Sci-Fi styled after Robert Scheckley meets Douglas Adams with a twist of Mr PKD and... slightly left-(star)field), so keeping the day-job will be a requirement, anyway (unless I can do a Iain (M) Banks, if you-know-what-I-mean)...

... and... I've recently come out of retirement after the guitarist from a band I'd played in 21 years ago, err, last one I played with, actually... err, truth be known, kinda-ish... give or take a month or so-ish, calls up out of the blue with a late mid-life crisis, and now 4 rehearsals down the line and 2 more to go until our reunion gig (a genuine Surrey Village Hall thing - no one of note... no head-lines here...) for the drummers 50th, here I am...

Now, everything has had to be done on a budget (ie. skint, and if that means bugger all to you people over the pond read gawd-damned broked down an' busted here) and my instruments were mostly mothballed (read rotting in the loft/attic here) so a bit of rush work was required...

I have been a bass player (electric since mid '75) since standing on a stool at school in 1969 to get up to the neck of an upright - now I am aware of some reticence out there to fretless players, but I do play both, dubiously... Now to qualify my insert here, I am a Gibson owner  - and have been for over 30 years now- a 1978 RD Artist, de-mooged and fretless and modified and quickly put back together, owned from new (£750 including HP - OHH YOU SEE AITCH spells OUCH...! when bought in '79 - work that out by todays prices when you earn less than £40 p/w +ot and I payed her off in 9 months!)  I'll possibly post about that if this generates interest as it has had some mods, to say the least... and (off topic?) a '73 SG Special with a pair of mini hums and a Bigsby (2 settings - off or KILL... ) - I know it has six strings, but I've heard this vicious rumour that bass guitars come in more than four-string flavours and are not Hagstrom's these days, kinda out-of-the-loop here...

Now back to the subject matter... I had a post on the Vintage Amps BB site (I am lucky to be the owner of a non standard 1970 DR103 called a "SWITCH" and wanted to know more, so it was a nice surprise to discover she was something out of the ordinary) from Chris P (CC of the NBPC - he knows who he is...) enquiring about a reference to my T'bird, and invited me over, so here I am, and here lies the BEAST...


The case hides the contents... err, don't ask about the cab, or why she "sloshed" when taken out of "mothballs"... ohh, and ignore the bird feeders, and the several tons/tonnes of sunflower husks, as that's off topic...


Now then, now then, first off, Mr Peter Cook is still very much in the business (has a shop on the outskirts of London) but I do not think he does much construction work on a major scale, though I may be wrong, and I believe he was a bass tech for Mr Entwistle including some bass lutherianism - go look up the cover of The Who By Numbers and then do your research - the instrument was real - he made a number of Precision hybrids with Gibson hardware for him, amongst other stuff, and one of his works for Mr Entwistle was auctioned off for in-excess of $30,000 a few years back - If you want to know I can provide the links... he used to be the set-up specialist for all UK Gibsons during the '80's, which is another (very tenative) link... - mine will not reach those lofty heights, and is unlikely to ever be offered up...

I bought her 3rd hand in '78 and I believe that she was born in '72 - originally she had all gold-plated hardware and a beautiful cherry red finish which this picture does not do justice... Gibson bridge and tail, Schallers and 2 Peter Cook Custom pickups that mirrored T'birds...


Here she is, mostly in original condition, (seen with the RDA) and a very nasty DiMarzio Mud replacement...


The damage laid a toll to her bodywork and hardware... get used to that, I am a trifle clumsy...

First, I managed to kill the neck pup and thought a nice DiMarzio EB replacement pup would be just the thing, which turned the instrument into a microphone, but controlably so; tried a Badass bridge (only removed during recent rebuild), broke a Schaller (when it passed gracefully through one of my 1969 Celestion Rola 30w's in my Marshall 412, which to this day has remained a 312, but that is another story), which I rebuilt with standard chromes utilising the goldwings, then I killed the bridge pup and fitted an EMG Select (same as the pup's in my Hohner Jack; not a Gibson, nice player, a very nice player, especially at the price), which was far too trebly, in the bridge slot and junked the DiMarzio - Now, whilst between bands in '84 I decided to re-spray her and give her back to some form of respect, very minimalistic - one pup and one volume control...

Looked kinda cool in the case... did I forget to mention the (mock) fur lined case...?







... then the jack socket played up and I converted to DI type, whatever they're called, things, but not wired in a standard fashion, so I can't buy standard leads (why not make life hard for myself...?) and then when February 2009 rolled round I needed to give her an urgent overhaul - Out came the EMG and in went the bridge pup from the RD, which had been broken in an accident (that word again...) that broke the pick-guard and the supports, so I had to rout-out the body to make a friction-fit for the pup, and finally restored her old T'bird hardware, and here she is, as of last Friday...



I warned you... don't blame me if you've just blurted your coffee/tea/beer/schnapps/bourbon/19 year old supadedoopa rare malt all over your keyboard and screen...



..and from another angle... is there a posting for the most offensive instrument on this site...?



a close-up of her hybrid Schallers with her new T'bird symbol... err, a pair of pewter ducks, actually, truth be known...



the view from the back... -  the red/white sticker is off a transit case for a Boeing 747-100/200 autopilot system - "Ah luv the smell of Aviation Kerosin in the mornin'..." sorry, did I wander off there...?



basking in the garden on a glorious London slightly grey day...




T'bird and Firebird body profiles looks good from this angle, regardless of their origins... I may upset a few people but I just don't get NR bodies, they just look wrong... just a personal opinion, but if someone out there wants to put me right and let me have one to try, for maybe a decade or two, mid sixties wiould be nice...



Now for playability... I was told that the neck profile is much like a pre CBS precision, now I know that may be a dirty word here, but... and chords quite beautifully (did he say "chords...?" fretless, and chords, on the same post...? utter heathen...) which I can-not use to full extent in the present line-up - used to play a lot of quite loud stuff and liked to fill-in as I mostly played in 3 piece or 3+vocals, I distinctly remember being thrashed by Lemmy at the Cambridge Corn Exchange in '78, I also vaguely remember someone describing one outfit as "jazz-metal" once... err, did I wander off there...? Ohh, and she does not suffer T'bird Droop as significantly as the Real-Thing, but I would be hard pressed to want to trade, no matter how good or rare...

Gibson instruments...? I was an Alice Cooper fan (bought Schools-Out from new) and a big Dennis Dunaway fan, and although he ended up playing Jazz bass I was hooked by his EB3L on "LITD", and loved the Gibson BIG FAT VISCERAL Sound that Jack Bruce and Felix Pappalardi had. My first electric bass was a nasty thing called a Grenn (bolt on neck with an EB2 style body and a floating bridge, which did not last long (broke it... oops - RIP Grenn - I only have the name plate and one pic for a memory - great for "Guitar-On-Amp"), the day I bought her there was this all gold and cherry red in the setting sunlight moment, but as the Peter Cook T'bird was £200 she was beyond my available readies... a year later I was in the market for a new instrument and the same shop (in Hounslow, near Heathrow, London, long gone... the owner used to play in a Who tribute band, may still do, but would be as old as the originals now... a great guy, most helpful when I started out...) had a white EB2 for sale for £250... I enquired, but as my limit was £200... I went home to grovel to my dad for the extra £50 but when I went back a chap by the name of Bruce Foxton (played for some beat combo or other) had nipped in and bought it, and was on Top-Of-The-Pops with it about a week later... oh well, I would have probably wrecked it anyway... but in the mean-time, the Peter Cook Custom had come back in at £180 - ES-OHH-ELL-DEE - 3rd hand and with a wait till they getta load of this case...
T'birds...? well, the RDA was a 2nd/3rd choice at the time as I could not find a new T'bird or EB3 (couldn't buy 2nd hand on the "never-never" in those days), but when I played her... well, that's another story...

For some strange reason, Mr Dekker thought this may create an interesting story, hence my posting, and that is probably more than enough posting for a newbie...

For now I will sign off and see what happens... you will either go for this or not, so see if I care...

Regards from a darkened Reevesland Upon Thames in the UK

ps nearly forgot -  a three piece thru neck with an ebony board, MOP inlays and Gibson fat frets... just in case you wanted to know...?

pps Thrashed by Lemmy...!? at pinball...!