From the Mouths of Babes (remix)

It’s been nearly a decade since I went shopping for a full-size keyboard. My first was also a Kurzweil, the venerable PC88, in 1995. It was a brilliant ‘board for its time. It’ll be interesting to see how far they’ve come in the intervening years, and whether my impressions parallel those of its reviewers:

Whether coming out of the Tannoy monitors in my studio, my older Toa PA speakers, or going through my Gallien-Krueger or Barbetta keyboard amps, all the piano sounds stayed true to their best nature. I also noticed that unlike on many other stage pianos, I didn’t have to change sounds when I changed styles: The default piano let me play pop ballads, jazz solos, rock rhythms, salsa montunos, and a Bach prelude. To me, this has always been the selling point of the Kurzweil piano: It stays musical in any context.

Responsive, fluid and energetic. … (The action was) willing me on, encouraging me to push my playing just that little bit further than I normally might, and rewarding me for my efforts.  In essence, the action on the SP2x makes trickier phrases just that little bit less risky, which, in a live situation can be very reassuring.”

The SP2X’s action is fully weighted and feels great to play. There’s sufficient resistance to allow your fingers something to push against, yet enough give and springiness to allow for machine-gun-fast repeated notes on a single key.

FedEx predicts arrival this week. I can’t wait to play it!

No, there were few new goodies. A new plug-in delay, a few nips and tucks for Ultrabeat and other soft synths. No matter. What needed to happen — a complete rethinking of the interface — was done with typical Apple elan. Bravo.

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In college, [Dave] Brubeck was nearly expelled when one of his professors discovered that he could not read sheet music. Several of his professors came forward arguing for his ability with counterpoint and harmony, but the school was still afraid that it would cause a scandal, and only agreed to let Brubeck graduate once he promised never to teach piano.

With bassist Arne Olsen and drummer Rick Buckendahl, we crisscrossed western Oregon, often traveling as far as Bend, Portland, and Ashland, as often as not depending on the kindness of strangers for our lodging. We played Ashland, in fact, during the infamous New Year’s Eve flood of 1996, loading in during a driving rainstorm over a wet wooden footbridge spanning the creek that lent the late, lamented Ashland Creek Bar & Grill its name. When we loaded out the next day, Interstate 5 was closed and part of the outdoor dining deck was washed away, along with two unfortunate and adjacent lower-lying businesses.

We sailed, we soared, and for $40 a night we presided over Eugene’s hallowed haunts — The Old Pad, the Good Times, the Vet’s Club, Taylor’s. We played for weddings, parties, and festivals. We packed it in when I got the call to go on the road with a rising country singer, never to resurface.

More’s the pity.

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