Working with some of rock’s biggest bands, including GNR, Tool, Nine Inch Nails, and the Smashing Pumpkins, prepared the guitarist to produce records—A Perfect Circle’s and his own. On his new What Normal Was, vocals and dark ’80s pop propel the soundtrack.
Billy Howerdel has topped the charts in A Perfect Circle (APC). He’s been a guitar tech with high-profile acts like Nine Inch Nails, the Smashing Pumpkins, and Tool (where he worked with future APC frontman Maynard James Keenan). He’s even scored video games. All the while, he’s crafted a unique and identifiable guitar style full of expansive ambiance, octave-fuzz-laced melodies, and crushing low-C riffs. Each of these experiences informed and inspired the next, like a row of dominos.
What Normal Was, Howerdel’s latest offering and first album under his name, is different. From the first notes of “Selfish Hearts” to the album closer, “Stars,” his guitar embraces a supporting role, putting the focus on his newfound vocal approach. Instead of futuristic, hard-rock aggression, he leans on the synth-heavy sounds that inspired his early years. According to Howerdel, he’s been cultivating this sound his entire life.
“From the time I was about 17, I was always writing songs. In my mid-20s, once I had enough strong material, I felt like, ‘This is the time to do it. It’s time to start really focusing on this.’”
Howerdel wasn’t sitting around and waiting for his big break, however. He was paying his dues as a lighting and guitar technician with some of the biggest names in the game. One gig, in particular, laid the foundation for all to come.
Billy Howerdel - Poison Flowers (Official Music Video)
While teching for guitarist Robin Finck, Howerdel found himself shoulder to shoulder with none other than Axl Rose—working on the infamous Guns N’ Roses album, Chinese Democracy. “There’s a lot of talented personnel around [the GNR] camp. The engineers, producers, and technicians were trying to make the best-sounding record,” Howerdel remembers. “For me, it was the perfect situation. It taught me how to make records. It taught me how to make Mer de Noms, the first APC record, by myself.”
As far as which songs made it onto APC’s mammoth debut, Howerdel says, “I leave that up to my relationship with Maynard. I’ll present him with things I think he might like. But I’ll let him dictate it because he’s got to be engaged with the process.”
There’s no doubt that APC is a pillar of Howerdel’s musical personality. But as a voracious songwriter, he has more to say. That’s why he jumped at the chance when video game developer Naughty Dog asked him to score Jak X: Combat Racing. Not only was it an inspiring new medium. It would push his music into new territories.
“The object of that music was to have forward motion, to have a little more tempo,” Howerdel explains. “That’s something that doesn’t usually come from me. Everyone’s got their own flavor, and mine was a mid-tempo thing. Pushing the tempo up for that video game helped me push the tempo up for ASHES dIVIDE’s first record.” That album, Keep Telling Myself It’s Alright, was technically Howerdel’s first solo album.
“This is definitely a bit of a time capsule letter back to myself. It’s a look back to before I even became a musician; before I even considered picking up a guitar.”
Let’s follow the dominos: Guns N’ Roses into A Perfect Circle, A Perfect Circle into video games, video games into the solo project ASHES dIVIDE.And the dominos kept falling, bringing us to What Normal Was.
But this new domino somehow fell in reverse.
“This is definitely a bit of a time capsule letter back to myself,” Howerdel shares. “It’s a look back to before I even became a musician, before I even considered picking up a guitar.”
Pick any song on the album and it’s clear what he means. From the Andy Taylor-like (Duran Duran) guitar melodies of “Ani” to the Cure influence on “Follower,” this set exudes the darker side of ’80s pop, which Howerdel says is very intentional.
Billy Howerdel's Gear
Billy Howerdel used a Gibson ES-175 throughout his new album, What Normal Was.
Photo by Travis Shinn
Guitars
- Gibson 1960 Les Paul Classic Reissue with Tom Anderson humbuckers
- Gibson ES-175
- Yamaha AES 1500
- Gibson J-28 acoustic
Bass
- Fender Deluxe P Bass
- Warwick Thumb Bass 5-string (never used low B)
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball (.010-.046 sets)
- Clayton 1.0 mm triangle picks
Amps
- 1978 Marshall Super Lead 100 JMP modded with a Naylor-style preamp
- Friedman Naked
- Gibson GA-15RV combo
Effects
- Fractal Audio Axe-Fx III (used for effects and a Fender Twin model for completely clean tones)
- Prescription Electronics Experience Octave
- Electro-Harmonix MEL9
- Neve 1073 preamp
- Universal Audio 1176 Compressor
- Universal Audio Ampeg B-15N plug-in
“I was thinking about how I might’ve had to approach it if I was making this record in the early ’80s,” he says. “I tried to make it a focused album of 10 songs that fit together and balance between a modern record and honoring the classic, post-punk music that turned me on.”
Pulling from early influences like Echo and the Bunnymen, the Cure, and Killing Joke was quite the shift for Howerdel. Not only did it mean stepping out from under the ASHES dIVIDE moniker, but also embracing a new-to-him tracking processes.
“’Selfish Hearts’ is probably all through an amp like my Marshall, while there are other songs, like ‘Free and Weightless,’ where some of it is through an amp but double-tracked with miking the guitar body. I’m taking a [Shure SM] 57 shitty microphone, miking the Les Paul’s wood, and then reamping that.”
To be clear, the Marshall Howerdel is referring to isn’t really a Marshall anymore, though it began life as one. He explains: “The power section is a 1978 Super Lead 100 JMP head. The preamp is based on this amp called a Naylor. I was about to play the Naylor on the whole APC run, but I couldn’t play clean loud enough. So, Dave [Friedman of Friedman Amplification] gave a mod to the amp to bring that Naylor sound to it.”
Billy Howerdel onstage with A Perfect Circle, the band he cofounded in 1999 with Tool frontman Maynard James Keenan. Howerdel produced and engineered APC’s platinum debut, Mer de Noms.
Photo by Jenny Jimenez
That amp—which Friedman briefly offered and called the Naked—and a Gibson GA-15RV combo still make up the backbone of Howerdel’s studio and live rigs. That’s pretty surprising when you consider the guitarist’s walls of sound. It’s even more surprising when realizing that, aside from a wealth of Axe-Fx-driven ambiance, he often controls the whole thing with one guitar and a set of his favorite humbuckers.
“I do try and get a lot of sounds out of the same guitar,” Howerdel says. “It’s a [Gibson] 1960 Les Paul Classic Reissue with Tom Anderson pickups. I fell into those at an early age. You find what you have and start using them as your tools. And then your sound comes.”
Howerdel’s tools are so ingrained that he maintains a large collection of the same model loaded with those humbuckers. Many are kept in altered tunings or set up for his signature, otherworldly slide excursions. Generally relying on a glass Dunlop slide for songs like “Poison Flowers,” he will occasionally reach for another, previously owned by a very surprising influence: Joe Walsh.
While Howerdel can go on and on about his guitars, the instrument rarely dominates on What Normal Was. As with everything on this album, that’s also purposeful. “Truly finding the song’s character in the voice—that’s what is important to me on this record,” Howerdel explains. “Anything else, like guitar, is going to be in support of the vocal. And bass playing is such an important part of it. Basslines are as important as the guitar.”
“A few years ago, I even called my friend Pete Thorn and said, ‘I think I want to take lessons from you.’ He laughed about where we would even start. But part of me has a superstition about knowing too much.”
His focus on the low end is evident. Whether grinding through “Follower” or taking the lead on “Ani,” the bass adds to the compositions without falling prey to guitarist-playing-bass trappings, though, he admits, that’s precisely what it is. “I’m not a traditional bass player. I’m the guitar player who plays bass. Simon Gallup [the Cure], Peter Hook [Joy Division/New Order], and Paul Raven [Killing Joke] were what turned me onto the bass guitar.”
But don’t worry. There are plenty of breathtaking guitar moments throughout What Normal Was. “EXP” opens with a delicate and dissonant acoustic melody, he punctuates “Beautiful Mistake” with his trademark octave-up lead lines, and “Follower” delivers a classic guitar solo.
“Guitar is a big part of what I do. I like heavier guitar and riffy guitar,” Howerdel says. “A few years ago, I even called my friend Pete Thorn and said, ‘I think I want to take lessons from you.’ He laughed about where we would even start. But part of me has a superstition about knowing too much. That I will change the way I’m writing.”
Considering how different What Normal Was is while still sounding very Billy Howerdel, it’s hard to imagine guitar lessons changing the way Howerdel writes. But who knows? Surely whatever comes next will topple the succeeding domino, and the next, and the next.
Rig Rundown - A Perfect Circle
- Riff Rundown: A Perfect Circle's "Judith" - Premier Guitar ›
- A Perfect Circle: Another Round for Billy Howerdel and James Iha ... ›
- Rig Rundown: A Perfect Circle - Premier Guitar ›
An '80s-era cult favorite is back.
Originally released in the 1980s, the Victory has long been a cult favorite among guitarists for its distinctive double cutaway design and excellent upper-fret access. These new models feature flexible electronics, enhanced body contours, improved weight and balance, and an Explorer headstock shape.
A Cult Classic Made Modern
The new Victory features refined body contours, improved weight and balance, and an updated headstock shape based on the popular Gibson Explorer.
Effortless Playing
With a fast-playing SlimTaper neck profile and ebony fretboard with a compound radius, the Victory delivers low action without fret buzz everywhere on the fretboard.
Flexible Electronics
The two 80s Tribute humbucker pickups are wired to push/pull master volume and tone controls for coil splitting and inner/outer coil selection when the coils are split.
For more information, please visit gibson.com.
Gibson Victory Figured Top Electric Guitar - Iguana Burst
Victory Figured Top Iguana BurstThe English guitarist expands his extensive discography with 1967: Vacations in the Past, an album paired with a separate book release, both dedicated to the year 1967 and the 14-year-old version of himself that still lives in him today.
English singer-songwriter Robyn Hitchcock is one of those people who, in his art as well as in his every expression, presents himself fully, without scrim. I don’t know if that’s because he intends to, exactly, or if it’s just that he doesn’t know how to be anyone but himself. And it’s that genuine quality that privileges you or I, as the listener, to recognize him in tone or lyrics alone, the same way one knows the sound of Miles Davis’ horn within an instant of hearing it—or the same way one could tell Hitchcock apart in a crowd by his vibrantly hued, often loudly patterned fashion choices.
Itchycoo Park
“I like my songs, but I don’t necessarily think I’m the best singer of them,” he effaces to me over Zoom, as it’s approaching midnight where he’s staying in London. “I just wanted to be a singer-songwriter because that’s what Bob Dylan did. And I like to create; I’m happiest when I’m producing something. But my records are blueprints, really. They just show you what the song could be, but they’re not necessarily the best performance of them. Whereas if you listen to … oh, I don’t know, the great records of ’67, they actually sound like the best performances you could get.”
He mentions that particular year not offhandedly, but because that’s the theme of the conversation: He’s just released an album, 1967: Vacations in the Past, which is a collection of covers of songs released in 1967, and one original song—the title track. Boasting his takes on Procol Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” the Beatles’ “A Day in the Life,” Pink Floyd’s “See Emily Play,” and Small Faces’ “Itchycoo Park,” among eight other tracks, it serves as a sort of soundtrack or musical accompaniment to his new memoir, 1967: How I Got There and Why I Never Left.
Hitchcock, who was 14 years old and attending boarding school in England in 1967, describes how who he is today is encased in that period of his life, much like a mosquito in amber. But why share that with the world now?
In the mid ’70s, before he launched his solo career, Hitchcock was the leader of the psychedelic group the Soft Boys.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/tinnitus photography
“I’m 71; I’ve been alive quite a long time,” he shares. “If I want to leave a record of anything apart from all the songs I’ve written, now is a good time to do it. By writing about 1966 to ’67, I’m basically giving the context for Robyn Hitchcock, as Robyn Hitchcock then lived the rest of his life.”
Hopefully, I say, the publication of these works won’t ring as some sort of death knell for him.
“Well, it’s a relative death knell,” he replies. “But everyone’s on the conveyor belt. We all go over the edge. And none of our legacies are permanent. Even the plastic chairs and Coke bottles and stuff like that that we’re leaving behind.... In 10- or 20-thousand-years’ time, we’ll probably just be some weird, scummy layer on the great fruitcake of the Earth. But I suppose you do probably get to an age where you want to try and explain yourself, maybe to yourself. Maybe it’s me that needs to read the book, you know?”
“I’m basically giving the context for Robyn Hitchcock, as Robyn Hitchcock then lived the rest of his life.”
To counter his description of his songs above, I would say that Hitchcock’s performances on 1967: Vacations in the Past carve out their own deserved little planet in the vintage-rock Milky Way. I was excited in particular by some of his selections: the endorsement of foundational prog in the Procol Harum cover; the otherwise forgotten Traffic tune, “No Face, No Name and No Number,” off of Mr. Fantasy, the Mamas & the Papas’ nostalgic “San Francisco,” and of course, the aforementioned Floyd single. There’s also the lesser known “My White Bicycle” by Tomorrow and “I Can Hear the Grass Grow” by the Move, and the Hendrix B-side, “Burning of the Midnight Lamp.”
Through these recordings, Hitchcock pays homage to “that lovely time when people were inventing new strands of music, and they couldn’t define them,” he replies. “People didn’t really know what to call Pink Floyd. Was it jazz, or was it pop, or psychedelia, or freeform, or systems music?”
His renditions call to mind a cooking reduction, defined by Wikipedia as “the process of thickening and intensifying the flavor of a liquid mixture, such as a soup, sauce, wine, or juice, by simmering or boiling.” Hitchcock’s distinctive, classic folk-singer voice and steel-string-guided arrangements do just that to this iconic roster. There are some gentle twists and turns—Eastern-instrumental touches; subtly applied, ethereal delay and reverb, and the like—but nothing that should cloud the revived conduit to the listener’s memory of the originals.
And yet, here’s his review of his music, in general: “I hear [my songs] back and I think, ‘God, my voice is horrible! This is just … ugh! Why do I sing through my nose like that?’ And the answer is because Bob Dylan sang through his nose, you know. I was just singing through Bob Dylan’s nose, really.”
1967: Vacations in the Pastfeatures 11 covers of songs that were released in 1967, and one original song—the title track.
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“I wait for songs to come to me: They’re independent like cats, rather than like dogs who will faithfully trail you everywhere,” Hitchcock explains, sharing about his songwriting process. “All I can do is leave a plate of food out for the songs—in the form of my open mind—and hope they will appear in there, hungry for my neural pathways.”
Once he’s domesticated the wild idea, he says, “It’s important to remain as unselfconscious as possible in the [writing] process. If I start worrying about composing the next line, the embryonic song slips away from me. Often I’m left with a verse-and-a-half and an unresolved melody because my creation has lost its innocence and fled from my brain.
“[Then] there are times when creativity itself is simply not what’s called for: You just have to do some more living until the songs appear again. That’s as close as I can get to describing the process, which still, thankfully, remains mysterious to me after all this time.”
“In 10- or 20-thousand-years’ time, we’ll probably just be some weird, scummy layer on the great fruitcake of the Earth.”
In the prose of 1967: How I Got There and Why I Never Left, Hitchcock expresses himself similarly to how he does so distinctively in his lyrics and speech. Amidst his tales of roughing his first experiences in the infamously ruthless environs of English boarding school, he shares an abundance of insight about his parents and upbringing, as well as a self-diagnosis of having Asperger’s syndrome—whose name is now gradually becoming adapted in modern lexicon to “low-support-needs” autism spectrum disorder. When I touch on the subject, he reaffirms the observation, and elaborates, “I think I probably am also OCD, whatever that means. I’ve always been obsessed with trying to get things in the right order.”
He relates an anecdote about his school days: “So, if I got out of lunch—‘Yippee! I’ve got three hours to dress like a hippie before they put me back in my school clothes. Oh damn, I’ve put the purple pants on, but actually, I should put the red ones on. No! I put the red ones on; it’s not good—I’ll put my jeans on.’
Robyn Hitchcock's Gear
Hitchcock in 1998, after embarking on the tour behind one of his earlier acoustic albums, Moss Elixir.
Guitars
- Two Fylde Olivia acoustics equipped with Sennheiser II lavalier mics (for touring)
- Larrivée acoustic
- Fender Telecaster
- Fender Stratocaster
Strings & Picks
- Elixir .011–.052 (acoustic)
- Ernie Ball Skinny Top Heavy Bottom .010–.054 (electric)
- Dunlop 1.0 mm
“I’d just get into a real state. And then the only thing that would do would be listening to Trout Mask Replica by Captain Beefheart. There was something about Trout Mask that was so liberating that I thought, ‘Oh, I don’t care what trousers I’m wearing. This is just, whoa! This music is it.’”
With him having chosen to cover “See Emily Play,” a Syd Barrett composition, the conversation soon turns to the topic of the late, troubled songwriter. I comment, “It’s hard to listen to Syd’s solo records.... It’s weird that people enabled that. You can hear him losing his mind.”
“You can, but at the same time, the fact they enabled it means that these things did come out,” Robyn counters. “And he obviously had nothing else to give after that. So, at least, David Gilmour and the old Floyd guys.... It meant they gave the world those songs, which, although the performances are quite … rickety, quite fragile, they’re incredibly beautiful songs. There’s nothing forced about Barrett. He can only be himself.”
“There was something about Trout Mask Replica that was so liberating that I thought, ‘Oh, I don’t care what trousers I’m wearing. This is just, whoa!’”
I briefly compare Barrett to singer-songwriter Daniel Johnston, and we agree there are some similarities. And then with a segue, ask, “When did you first fall in love with the guitar? Was it when you came home from boarding school and found the guitar your parents gifted you on your bed?”
Robyn pauses thoughtfully.“Ah, I think I liked the idea of the guitar probably around that time,” he shares. “I always used to draw men with guns. I’m not really macho, but I had a very kind of post-World War II upbringing where men were always carrying guns. And I thought, ‘Well, if he’s a man, he’s got to carry a gun.’ Then, around the age of 13, I swapped the gun for the guitar. And then every man I drew was carrying a guitar instead.”
Elaborating on getting his first 6-string, he says, “I had lessons from a man who had three fingers bent back from an industrial accident. He was a nice old man with whiskers, and he showed me how to get the guitar in tune and what the basic notes were. And then I got hold of a Bob Dylan songbook, and—‘Oh my gosh, I can play “Mr. Tambourine Man!”’ It was really fast—about 10 minutes between not being able to play anything, and suddenly being able to play songs by my heroes.”
❦
Hitchcock does me the kindness, during our atypically deep conversation—at least, for a press interview—of sharing more acute perceptions of his parents, and their own neurodivergence. Ultimately, he feels that his mother didn’t necessarily like him, but loved the idea of him—and that later in life, he came to better understand his lonely, depressive father. “My mother was protective but in an oddly cold way. People are like that,” he shares. “We just contain so many things that don’t make sense with each other: colors that you would not mix as a painter; themes you would not intermingle as a writer; characters you would not create.... We defy any sense of balance or harmony.
“Although the performances are quite rickety, quite fragile, they’re incredibly beautiful songs. There’s nothing forced about Barrett. He can only be himself.”
“The idea of normality.... ‘Normal’ is tautological,” he continues. “Nothing is normal. A belief in normality is an aberration. It’s a form of insanity, I think.
“It’s just hard for us to accept ourselves because we’re brought up with the myth of normality, and the myth of what people are supposed to be like gender-wise, sex-wise, and psychologically what we’re supposed to want. And in a way, some of that’s beginning to melt, now. But that probably just causes more confusion. It’s no wonder people like me want to live in 1967.”
YouTube It
In this excerpt from the Jonathan Demme-directed concert film of Robyn Hitchcock, Storefront Hitchcock, the songwriter performs an absurdist “upbeat” song about a man who dies of cancer.
Designed in collaboration with Blu DeTiger, this limited-edition bass guitar features a Sky Burst Sparkle finish, custom electronics, and a chambered lightweight ash body.
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Featured as the cover of the Forbes 30 Under 30 music list, Blu, who defines her musical style in the "groovy Indie” genre blending elements of Pop, Rock, and Funk, represents the next generation of pop music, earning accolades and a dedicated global fanbase with her work alongside top artists and successful solo releases. Bringing her signature sound and style, Blu marks a new milestone in her storied partnership with Fender and solidifying her influence on the future of music in creating the Limited Edition Blu DeTiger x Player Plus Jazz Bass.
Limited Edition Blu DeTiger x Player Plus Jazz Bass ($1,599.99) - From the Sky Burst Sparkle to the chrome hardware and mirrored pickguard, every detail on this Jazz Bass echoes Blu’s artistic vision. The offset ash body is chambered to keep this bass as lightweight and comfortable as possible. The satin finished maple neck, bound 9.5” rosewood fingerboard and vintage tall frets provide smooth playability. The Custom Blu DeTiger Fireball bass humbucker and Player Plus Noiseless Jazz Bass Pickups fuse vintage charm with modern punch. The bass also includes an 18V Player Plus preamp with 3-band EQ and active/passive toggle, great for sculpting your tone and ideal for capturing the funky snap and growl that defines Blu’s sound. With its inspired aesthetics, signature sonics and Blu-approved features, the Limited Edition Blu DeTiger x Player Plus Jazz Bass lets you tap into the infectious pop energy that keeps this star shining!
Her successful releases including "Figure It Out,” "Vintage," and recent album “All I Ever Want is Everything” have earned her accolades and sent her on the road to tour across the world to perform for her dedicated fanbase. Her distinct style of playing has also seen her play live with top tier artists such as Olivia Rodrigo, Bleachers, Dominic Fike, Caroline Polachek, Chromeo, and more.
Exploring the Limited Player Plus x Blu DeTiger Jazz Bass® | Fender Artist Signature | Fender - YouTube
The majestic Roland Space Echo is having a bit of a resurgence. Here’s a breakdown on what makes it tick, and whether or not it’s right for you.
In this article, we delve into one of the most cherished gadgets in my guitar collection, the Roland Space Echo RE-201. This iconic piece of equipment has been used by legendary musicians like Jonny Greenwood, Brian Setzer, and Wata from Boris, which only heightened my desire to own one. A few years ago, I was fortunate to acquire a vintage RE-201 in good condition and at a reasonable price.
Using the RE-201 today has its advantages and disadvantages, particularly due to its size, which is comparable to an amplifier head. When compared to modern equivalents like delay pedals or software plugins that closely emulate the original, the vintage RE-201 can seem inefficient. Here, I share my personal and subjective experience with it.
The RE-201 is a tape echo/delay effect that gained popularity in the 1970s and ’80s. Unlike the more complex analog BBD delays or digital delays, tape delays use magnetic tape to simultaneously record and play back sound via a magnetic tape head (similar to a guitar or bass pickup). Because the recording head and playback head are in different physical locations, there is a time gap during the recording and playback process, creating the “delay” effect. This concept was first discovered by Les Paul in the 1950s using two tape machines simultaneously.
However, this method has a drawback: The magnetic tape used as a storage medium has a limited lifespan. Over time, the quality of the tape degrades, especially with continuous use. This degradation is marked by muddy, wavy sounds and unavoidable noise. Yet, this is precisely where the magic of real tape echo lies! New tapes produce clearer, hi-fi sounds, while older tapes tend to produce wavy sounds known as “modulated delay.” Additionally, increasing the number of tape-head readers extends the gap time/delay time of the output, and activating multiple tape-head readers simultaneously creates unique echo/delay patterns.
“This degradation is marked by muddy, wavy sounds and unavoidable noise. Yet, this is precisely where the magic of real tape echo/delay lies!”
Just as how fuzz and distortion effects were discovered, the “imperfections” of tape also represent a historical fact about how the creative process in music follows an absurd, non-linear, and unique pattern. In everyday practical life, signal delay is something typically avoided; however, in a musical context, delay adds a deeper dimension. Today, it’s hard to imagine a pedalboard without a delay effect at the end of the chain.
This uniqueness inspired me to create Masjidil Echo, embracing the “imperfection” of a vintage tape echo/delay with magnetic tape that hasn’t been replaced for years. Many newer pedals, such as the Boss RE-20, Strymon El Capistan, and the Catalinbread Echorec and Belle Epoch, draw inspiration from vintage tape repeat machines. Each has its unique interpretation of emulating tape echo, all in a more compact and maintenance-free format. Real tape delay requires periodic maintenance and has mostly been discontinued since the mid 1980s, with Roland ceasing production of the Space Echo entirely in 1985.
However, in recent years, interest in real tape echo has surged, perhaps due to nostalgia for past technology. As a result, many vintage delay units have appeared on marketplaces at increasingly gargantuan prices! If you’re considering acquiring one, I recommend thinking it over carefully. Are you prepared for the maintenance? Will you use it for regular performances? Are you ready for the fact that magnetic tape will become increasingly difficult to find, potentially turning your machine into a mere display piece? I don’t mean to instill fear, but the real deal, in my opinion, still can’t be fully emulated into a more practical and future-proof digital format.
So, I’ll leave you with one final question for consideration: What if the genealogy of technology were reversed chronologically, with multihead/multitap delay discovered digitally in the 1950s, and in the 2000s, a technological disruption led to the invention of mechanical tape echo to replace digital technology? Which would you choose?