’Twas the night before New-Gear Day, when all through the house
Not a Pro Co RAT was stirring, not even a Blue Mouse;
Two microphones were hung by the 4x12 with care,
In hopes that no phase issues would ever be there;
The pedals were nestled all snug on their boards;
While visions of Sugar Drives danced in dream chords;
With my bandmates in bed, to enjoy decompression,
We’d just settled our brains from a long recording session,
When, coming from the studio, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the console for an EQ that’s flatter.
Away to the kit to make room for a splash,
I tightened up the snares and polished the crash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a sparkle and shine to my bluegrass banjo,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Timmy, and the Lightspeed from Greer,
In a sleigh with a Driver so lively and thick,
I knew in a moment this was Gear St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his work-coursers came,
As he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Supro! Now, Marshall! Now Fender with Jensen!
On, Strymon! On, Empress! On Morgan and Benson!
To the Top Boost of the Vox! To the reverb of the hall!
Now dash away! Nash away! Bash away all!”
As bell-tones emerged from his wild Parker Fly,
They met shimmer and bloom from a tailing BigSky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of gear, and the Gear Santa, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The sustain and the shake from his EarthQuaker Hoof.
As I plugged in my combo, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came St. Nick, to hear its ’53 tweed sound.
My tone was dressed up in fuzz, from a Stomp Under Foot,
And he dug all the layers of overdrive soot;
He left a bundle of cables, instrument and patch,
And power tubes that were rigorously matched.
My eyes—how they twinkled upon the sight of fresh strings!
And the joy that a Caroline Kilobyte brings!
With my mouth stuck agape by a Pedal Power 3,
I quickly stomped a new Honey Bee OD;
My excitement and joy was sure to wake those asleep,
So to the Iridium I routed, to make not a peep;
New Beyerdynamics would cover my ears
But out the corner of my eye, my bandmates appeared. With my sticksman enthralled by a brand-new kick drum,
My smiling bassist strapped on a JetGlo 4001;
With a check of the mic as I turned a tuning key
A song began as St. Nicholas did flee.
The room had been filled with the gear we did crave,
And the walls were now painted with fresh new soundwaves; Just like the snow, a pristine track was laid
Using Ableton Suite, our dreams had been made.
As we hung up the axes and flipped down the switches,
A stillness and calm o’er our fairytale wishes,
We retired to our beds and turned out the light:
“Happy New-Gear Day to all, and to all a good night!”
