I remember 60 Brady St., too. I stumbled upon the Blue Bear School of music around '72 when I moved to Berzerkely to go to school from So. Cal. A whole bunch of bass players at Blue Bear had P- and J- basses with millions of knobs on 'em. When I asked what was going on, they all said they'd been modified at a place called Alembic...
I ventured there one day and the only finished bass they happened to have was the fretless that was bound for the Smithsonian traveling exhibit of American wood craftsmanship. This bass is pictured in an earlier thread. Of course, I fumble/stumble/bumble around on a regular fretted bass -- especially in those days -- so no, I didn't even try to play it. But my lady friend did take a pic of me holding it (she cut my head off cuz' I told her to make sure she got the whole bass in the picture!).
Can't really remember if it was the same trip (maybe Mica knows the correct chronology), but I also went there one day and the only completed bass was one in a crate that they pulled out for me to check out. The New York address on the crate was for Alex Blake! For those who don't know, Alex played with Billy Cobham's first post-Mahavishnu band and was/is(?) absolutely killer! He was largely overshadowed by Stanley, et al, but for my money was every bit as good (no knock on Stan the Man, of course). Really lyrical and liquid. But he was much less flamboyant and more quietly plied his trade...he and Billy would do a duet in the middle of the set, playing Hendrix's Message of(to?) Love. Alex coaxed the chords, bass and melody simultaneously while Cobham played bell tree and other light percussion. You could hear a pin drop. I have NEVER heard Jimi channeled more powerfully or emotionally.
This was during a two-night stint at the Great American Music Hall. On day two I had persuaded my Osiris (a band in the Dead's extended family cuz' we had Pig Pen's younger brother on keyboards) mates to go, as I had told them about Alex. Lo and behold, early in the first set he broke either an A or D string. Unfortunately, he didn't have a spare set of strings or a spare bass, for that matter. He clearly had to use all his musical knowledge to substitute, re-harmonize and otherwise navigate the tunes, and as amazing as that was it just wasn't the same. Needless to say, Cobham was pissed as hell...
Years later I'm watching McCoy Tyner on TV and there's Alex Blake playing the same bass I'd held in my hands, previously. I was screaming this story to the others in the room and they looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Oh, well. I still can't believe I've finally got my own Alembic. Know what I mean?
