Hi, folks,
It seems to me that Alembic is pretty darn on the ball when it comes to clever ideas in the building of monster basses, seriously clear pre-amp circuitry that is seriously clear, and sublime, aesthetic hardware, etc. that makes for a complete and completely unique instrument. In short, from the more affordable models to the most ornate Series basses (re: P.C.L. and his three new babies on tour), Alembic is rather grand all around and is rather
foresighted/farsighted with what it does in what I have seen.
But, I having been chewing on a single question sparked by seeing a review for a recently released Fender Custom Shop guitar built for the guy from Radiohead, and also thinking about how Lindsay Buckingham's Strat-Stratoblaster had a boosted output that ate Hiwatt output transformers for breakfast while he recorded "Rumors", according to RT.
The nascent question is "has there ever been a consumer demand for an improved Sustainer(TM)-like circuit, perhaps before the Sustainer(TM) system came to marked, that allows an Alembic bass to generate its own magnetic field to cause the strings to be resonated, and allowing for fretting techniques to be used as if the bass were being bowed, or for other neat effects, all without adjuvant gadgets or an eBow"? Eek.
I have never, ever seen this in any of the Alembics I have seen up close or online, myself, but I wondered if it had ever been done, as it seems well within the intellectual purview of the wizardry at Alembic. I also started to wonder how one could do that without messing up the function and fidelity of the low impedance pickups, or central hum-cancelling sensor in a Series instrument. Could you even use the central sensor to facilitate the resonance and be used to cancel hum (my Spidersense and I am doubting this, and mean no offense by asking)?
As short background for this fever dream of an idea, I have been resting up after doing some housework on a place halfway down the state and being on a return commuter train accident en route from having worked on said house. Instead of prepping the house to my satisfaction, I prepping the hell out of my IT band and the associated oblique, latissimi, lumborae, tendonized, and upper backular members of the Spanish Inquisition that cut painting short with a pain beyond description/prescription and OTC analgesics augmented by mild libation. Approaching 40 is reminding me of every stupid weightlifting and physical/sleeping indiscretion that I've incurred since I could say, "But I know what I am doing, Mama!"
The muscle situation was a bit worrisome and needed immediate palliation to avoid another bout of rhabdomyolysis and renal insult if I didn't replace screaming with movement, immediate ongoing hydration to flush any muscle detriutus and recondition what is about 280 pounds of condemned veal. I have been recommissioned, thankfully due to the swift action of legal, muscle relaxing drugs (GABA A agonists, nothing in the news, and I neither promote nor eschew the use of the modern pharmacopiae, merely, I acknowledge its use in en vogue medical odysseys), dilute alcohol, tap water, soda pop, and pizza before beginning my reciprocal return course.
After packing up as soon as I could and hoping an Amtrak to sleep on the way home two-three days ago, the train in question heading north T-boned a tractor trailer just south of Salinas, my station to change legs of the trip. No one was hurt, thank Goodness, and the train showed no change in impulse on collision, but this event lead to a nine hour wait, sitting in a REAL uncomfortable chair, as the contempted "guest" of Amtrak. I think, "Tragedy narrowly averted.", Bob Weir, 1980, Radio City Music Hall, describes it best as the train surgically shaved through the joint between trailers one and two. But I ask you, who in their right damage-control mind serves peanuts three hours into a National Transit Safety Board imbroglio!?! The peanuts should have been dispersed with soda pop the minute we cleared the dust cloud denoting the collision and engine's diesel tank destruction. They literally could rain them down upon the collision like oxygen masks in an airplane to keep the passengers sated with their mouths full and not alerting the News or Federal Agencies via Twitter, all while possibly closing the outside vents to cut the diesel stink, cooling and recycling the inside atmosphere! But, NOOOO. It rapidly, and humorously turned into a fetid sauna. HARUMPH!
However, in a truly decorous gestalt that has my faith in humanity someone inflated, I, like most of the passengers, were barely successful in containing our own inner Joan Crawfords after that FUBAR situation, and the resulting disruption of the standard 6-8 hours sleep cycle of all aboard (pun not intended, but still smirk-worthy).
We all basically looked like Bobby Weir's eyes on that fateful Letterman show, and in my case, the disruption and the Keystone Cops routine on the part of Amtrak to resolve their loco-comotion may have caused these pink elephant fantasies/ideas that I am sharing to start to drift through my cortex while waiting for a new locomotive and conductor/engineer crew, plus the "go-ahead" from the NRCMA following a late HazMat vendor clean up. This was a really interesting demonstration on what NOT to do and how NOT to structure an organization if you want to provide value rather than hold your clients hostage.
At least the truck driver got to leave early, but I hate to think of his insurance premiums and the explosion of pallets strewn about the scene. The Horror. The Horror. I guess my brain entertained itself with more of these asinine brain-teasers as presented above. Thus, given the standard academic treatise presented herein, please enjoy the following artistic recounting of the event from a similar first hand perspective, all while being invited rolling your eyes at my verbiage. I likely still need sleep, apparently.
Regards,
Zut
