Low Cost Semi- Retro Bedroom Studio

A few months ago I bought an old (2008) iMac with the idea of using it as a basis for getting into home recording. The iMac was in near mint condition, ran fine, and at only $30, a great deal. The plan was to start off cheap, with older equipment, and gradually update into newer apps and hardware as I gained proficiency. Coincidentally, all gear and software picked up for the first stage of this project was made in the mid 2000s.

One upside to having a relatively ancient iMac is the ability to run an older operating system (Mac OS 10.6.8) that supports obsolete yet otherwise fine sounding audio interfaces. For example, the M-Audio Firewire Solo that I picked up for $25, including a boxed Logic Studio disc. For a beginner the Logic recording app seemed a bit too advanced, but $5 at the local tech recycling place bought a set of iLife '08 discs, which includes GarageBand 4. That app, with its colorful "Fisher Price" graphic user interface, is an intuitive and easy to learn introduction to computer based multi-track recording.

Other recent purchases include a made in Illinois Shure KSM27 large diaphragm condenser microphone (like new, $120 from Music Go Round in MN), and a mint condition Utah made Bellari RP503 Tube Channel strip w/ tube preamp, optical compressor and EQ ($75 locally on c.l.).

From my gigging days, I already had a few dynamic mics and cables and other misc stuff such as old junky instruments. Our teenage kid, who's taken a few audio production courses and is way ahead of me in all this, loaned an Akai MPK Mini keyboard controller and a microphone pop filter.

Older Japan made Sony MD7506 headphones, modded with BeyerDynamic velour ear pads, do monitoring duty. Yamaha RH1C open on-ear 'phones are an alternate reference. In other rooms of the house, high quality vintage speakers - 1970s JBL, '50s Electro-Voice, and '90s Boston Acoustics - are available for checking mixes. And a portable Firewire backup drive adds some digital security.

The recording equipment was first set up downstairs, but it's sometimes noisy on street level during the day:

Diesel trash trucks and delivery vehicles accelerating up the hill can really kill a good recording buzz. The quietest spot in the house, aside from the bathrooms, is our recently re-painted and newly re-rugged upstairs bedroom. The thick all wool Scandinavian patterned rug really brought the room's ambient noise level down.

As far as bedrooms go, it's not large, or small - basically 11' x 14', plus an alcove at one end with a sliding door to the bathroom on the left, cabinets and sink in the middle, and a roomy walk-in closet on the right. Between the big Victorian style chest of drawers and the foot of the bed is enough space for a cozy working area:

In the above picture, a green camping towel draped over the end of the white duvet cover keeps things clean, and family life harmonious.

As well as being quiet enough, the bedroom has a nice recorded sound, with a good balance of reflective and absorptive surfaces. Here's the alcove at the west end of the room - this mostly reflective surfaced space really lets an open back tube amp breathe:

Converse sneakers and an old Shure condenser mic - a great combo:

Every night after putting the iMac to sleep, all the odds and ends get picked up and put away, a 10 to 15 minute job, and the little table goes to its bed-time spot.

We discussed moving the 1940s dresser chest, and putting a studio desk along that wall, but the idea of having an easily taken down setup appealed to me.

I met a guy at a music store who had a cautionary tale: He'd gotten the studio bug, remodeled a spare bedroom into a recording space, including sound treatment panels, and bought over $20,000 in equipment and software. After his studio sat mostly unused for 5 years, he realized he didn't have many ideas to record, and ended up selling his gear for pennies.

In my case, no doubt an extra few $ worth of high end hardware would result in a better recorded sound. But it's only a fun hobby, and so far I've spent (checks notes) less than $300. That's low buck, and the audio quality is beyond good enough for my far from golden ears. Plus, I'm fairly sure my own imagination is at least equal to my low budget.

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Click or tap on any picture above to see larger, higher def images. All photos taken with a Lumix ZS25 travel zoom camera.

An Accidental Guitar

 

On a lazy late winter afternoon recently I was sitting on the sofa in the sunlight, half dozing and half noodling on this guitar (a perfect couch electric), and I suddenly realized how accidental it was. As opposed to being a purely intentional guitar.

I’ve built up several project electrics, but they've had a more or less specific end goal in sight, unlike this hodgepodge of random parts. It started with a tub full of various components tossed into it over the past ten years, some used, most new. Then along came a precision crafted pine plank Telecaster body from Canada and, rummaging though the parts bin, it looked like there might be enough bits and pieces to put together a guitar.

 

A Rundown of All Those Unintentional Parts:

- ToneBomb knotty pine body. Made in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Two piece knotty pine, seam straight down the middle but not bookmatched. This was one of a limited run of knotty pine bodies ToneBomb made a couple of years ago; luckily I was allowed my pick from a few available unrouted blanks (all unique and lovely), then had a choice of pickup configurations. Totally vintage early ‘50s spec in all dimensions except the P90 pickup rout, and wonderfully lightweight. It came presanded to 150 weight, and I had a happy few days outdoors in early summer weather doing finish sanding. First with 220 grit, then a couple passes at 400 (with a water coat in between to raise the grain) before I gave it three double coats of Watco oil based varnish.

- Fender Classic Player ‘50s series Stratocaster neck, made in Mexico in 2022. Over a few months I bought five various Tele necks, and I’ll cut that long story short to say they each had flaws, fit issues, or been misrepresented by the sellers. One day I took the neck off my Strat project guitar, put it on the ToneBomb body - it fit perfectly - and that’s where it stayed. Fender calls it a “soft V” back profile, I've always liked the shape. My first good quality guitar, a 1947 Martin D18, had a similar feel neck - the guy I bought that Martin from, a pro player in L.A., had sanded its original harder V-shape neck down a bit, and it was a great guitar to learn to play on. Until recently most Yamaha acoustics have had that neck shape; this Fender neck and the one on my 2005 Yam parlor are very close. Here's the same neck, mounted on a Strat project:

 

 

- Gotoh vintage type tuning machines. Nickel plated steel, with “butterbean” Waverly style buttons. Japan

 

- Fender vintage style round string guide, nickel plated steel. USA

- Gotoh nickel plated steel neck plate. Japan

- Fender nickel plated steel strap pegs. USA

- Gotoh Les Paul style output jack plate. Curved nickel plated brass or nickel. Japan

 

- Switchcraft output jack, new old stock, unknown date, possibly 1970s. USA

- Gotoh control plate, nickel plated brass or nickel. It’s reverse mounted, a bit easier to grab the volume knob. Japan

- Gotoh bridge plate, nickel plated brass. Cutaway sides for comfort, and cutaway rear for possible use with a Bigsby tailpiece. Japan

 

 

- Fender “Vintage ‘58” bridge saddles. Solid and smooth unthreaded steel. No intonation compensation, but my not so secret Tele adjustment seems to work: keep messing with the string length until chords sound okay, and you’re done. Most of the Telecasters I borrowed when I started doing country bar gigs had these same style smooth steel barrel saddles. To my ears, better tone and sustain than either brass or the thinner threaded steel types, and amazing they're still made today. USA

- Fender vintage-type rear body string ferrules, nickel plated steel. USA

- Gotoh “Gibson Speed” style volume control knob. Japan

- Gotoh “dome” Tele style tone control knob, heavy knurled nickel plated brass. Japan

- CTS (Chicago Telephone Supply) 250k audio taper potentiometers; one w/ splined split shaft, one w/ a solid shaft. Both new current production. Mexico

 

- Sprague .039uF capacitor. It's old, maybe late '50s or '60s, I don't really know; a vintage sized large tube, probably mylar composition construction. I have a limited stock of old and new caps; tried a few of them with a home built external (yet in-circuit) tone capacitor tester, and this one worked well with the two disparate type pickups. Smooth jazzy tones rolled back with the neck pickup, and tames any tendency toward harshness in the bridge pickup. USA

 - Oak Grigsby 3-way blade switch. NOS (New Old Stock), spring loaded. It's mid '90s, old enough, and was cheaper than a new production one. USA

- DakaWare switch knob, NOS 1950s, maroon barrel style. Chicago, Illinois, USA. A gift from friend David.

- Mighty Mite neck pickup; Gibson single coil “P-90” style. Made in Korea mid 1990s, Alnico magnet, 8.5k. Bought this from a seller named Martha; Martha, it turned out, was a really cute Black Labrador pup!

 

- Philadelphia Luthier Supply P-90 cover, unplated solid nickel. USA.

- MojoTone bridge pickup. “Broadcaster” model, flat top magnets, string-wrapped and wax potted coil, 9.6K. Made in Georgia, USA

- WD pickguard, thick one ply, 5 screw. USA

- Wherever possible, all screws are nickel plated flat blade type, not phillips. Various makes; Fender, Philly Luthier etc. USA

- Currently the strings are a GHS Gilmour set, gauges .010, .012, .016, .028, .038, .048. Next string change I’ll go back to my old fave Hybrid Slinky set: .009, .011, .016, .026, .036, .046. A very minor difference, with the slightly lighter set hopefully having a bit better couch noodle-ability.

 

A Low Power Couch Noodling Amplifier

 

Here's a photo of my living room amp, along with another piece of vintage furniture:

 

 

A quick description: a modified 1950s 5F2A circuit built into an old small PA amp chassis (I'm guessing maybe 4 watts at most), sitting atop a Hammond M3 organ external speaker cabinet w/ an Altec Lansing 417-8C 12" inside. This cab, without 12" speaker, was a gift from Nashville Tele slinger extraordinaire Chris Wade, from whom I also got the mid '90s Japan Fender Stratocaster body shown above.

Accidental Addendum:

 

 

Luckily there was a set in the string stash box of what Ernie Ball calls Hybrid Slinky (.009 - .046); in this case GHS Custom Light. From geographic necessity in a past life, I learned to be mostly agnostic regarding string brands, and used what I could find. After the string swap, the Accidental Pinecaster and I retired to the ancient Flexsteel sofa, and there it was: all the wiggly couch noodle-ability anyone could ask for.

*               *               *

Photo of the living room amp was taken with an Olympus PL-5 w/ a Lumix 14-45mm zoom lens, and the Strat project guitar was shot with a Lumix ZS-25 pocket camera. All other images were taken with a 2016 iPhone SE.

ps - One last photo:

The living room is in the process of getting some new furniture and some old removed, so stuff is being temporarily rearranged. A bit crowded, but it makes an interesting picture (see above).

Poetry Week, Day 7, Song Lyric: "In Redondo"

 
In Redondo


Walking on a windy beach with headphones on
I've got a beat up iPod full of Elliot Smith songs
Foaming waves run up the sand in the shimmering heat
The cool polluted water feels good upon my feet
In Redondo


In the hazy distance mountains rise above the sea
Coming slowly closer, a runner on the beach
Shore birds scatter, wheeling above me as I get near
I look away for awhile, and they've all disappeared


Picked up a spiral shell and suddenly awoke from a dream
Blurring the line between illusion and reality
In Redondo


I shake the sand out of my shoes and walk in the door
You left another note but I can't read them anymore


We tried to hold on to a ghost of the life we once knew
Someday I may lose the memory of you
In Redondo


- Instrumental interlude -


Nothing lasts forever, we know that's true
Someday I will lose the memory of you
The memory of you
In Redondo, Redondo
You and me in Redondo
In Redondo

*               *               *

All the best songs have snappy, direct and hard hitting lyrics; a great example of this is Bruce Channel's smash hit (on Smash Records!) "Hey! Baby", which topped the charts at #1 for three weeks in 1962. The first verse of that song is:

"Hey, hey baby
I wanna know woh oh
If you'll be my girl"

And the second verse is:

"Hey, hey baby
I wanna know woh oh
If you'll be my girl"

Doesn't get more direct and to the point than that, and success speaks for itself. The songs that come to me aren't close to being in the same league, but we do have fun playing them anyway. 

Song lyrics need music to be complete, and "In Redondo" has an accompaniment, with liberal use of fragmented and vague sounding chords neither major nor minor, which attempts to convey some of the feeling of isolation, uncertainty and loss that we were going for. But although incomplete without the score, do the lyrics by themselves have any poetic value? Possibly.

It's set in a mythical, imaginary place called Redondo, located somewhere between here and nowhere. I've always liked the sound of that word or name; my sister says it's a colloquial translation of "fat round one" from Spanish or Portuguese. And no, it's not Redondo Beach, which is also a poetic place but in a daytime nightmare kind of way. Wow- a fat round one... Hey, hey baby, roll me a Redondo, would you?

Thanks to David for the beat up iPod, without which this song, and poem, wouldn't be possible.

 

Poetry Week, Day 6, Refrigerator Word Magnet Poem: "Bridget, Midge, Gidget, Rutledge, Rodger, and Madge"

Bridget, Midge, Gidget, Rutledge, Rodger, and Madge

Bridget cadged a ride to the lodge with a badger in a Dodge

And trudged to put wedges of fudge in the fridge

Midge was a lodger on a budget with a ledger and a gadget:

A hodgepodge of kludges and widgets made by a hedgehog named Gidget

Rutledge, a fidgety curmudgeon with knowledge of didgeridoos

And Rodger the judge, a full fledged midget with a badge and a grudge

Nudged budgerigars with cudgels and pledged not to budge

Not even a smidge

From a smudge on a hedge made of sedge on the ridge

But Madge grabbed a sledge from a ledge by the kedge of her dredge

And bludgeoned both drudges off the edge of a bridge…

Into sludge

 

*               *               * 

A fairly new form of poetry came along a few years ago: the really fun Refrigerator Word Magnet Poem. In a family or roommate or visiting friends setting, a poem or story created becomes ever evolving; anyone who comes to the fridge can be an instant editor or co-creator, just by swapping or rearranging words.

As a writing tool, the basic premise is intriguing: starting with a preset limited, finite vocabulary, move those few words around until some sort of narrative emerges. During a period of reading mostly murder mysteries set in the UK and written by British authors, I noticed how many words and names there were that had the consecutive grouping of three letters: d, g, and e.

With an initial gathering of 39 "dge" words, combined with a bare minimum of others thrown in, a very short story emerged. Eventually this became 56 words, in one of which the grouping occurs twice; every time a new dge word was added, the plot changed a bit. The funnest part was creating and describing the villains, and the heroine that saves all in the end, using only those few words.

Probably there's a lot more "dge" words in our basically English language, and as they make themselves known this pretend word magnet poem done on an imaginary refrigerator will grow.

Poetry Week, Day 5, Limerick: "Love, Geometrically"

π Are Squared, ≥ ∞

A young man from Greece named Pythagoras
Was feeling philosophically amorous
To his love he said "I
Have made you a Pi,
'Though its form and its function aren't obvious!"

*               *               *

A Limerick, according to Oxford, is "a humorous, frequently bawdy, verse of three long and two short lines rhyming aabba, popularized by Edward Lear". Why this poetic form is named after the Irish city or county of Limerick is unclear. Possibly because a high percentage of its residents are humorous and frequently bawdy?

Poetry Week, Day 4, Broadside Ballade: "Near Crystal Lakes"

Near Crystal Lakes
Being a Broadside Ballade in 14 1/2 Quatrains,
By Frederick Roy Thomas and James Aoyama
Half term project assignment
Grade 11 Creative writing class, room 218, Mr Warfield

*            *            *


Near Crystal Lakes where the tall trees grow
A mounted horseman rides
To meet his love ‘neath a shady grove
And there to be his bride


Ride, ride, ride
Your lover does await
And from her eye doth fall a tear
Long awaiting your arrival


The high road is long and the way is hard
Over vale and sward
Strong beats the heart of an honest man
Riding ever onward


His thoughts did dwell on a lady far away
In that shady grove
He longed for her lovely face to see
And her hand to hold


Ride, ride, ride
Your lover does await
And from her eye doth fall a tear
Long awaiting your arrival


In a misty copse appeared three desperate men
Of allegiance unknown
Fled from the field of honor they be
Fugitives of the Crown


They cried out “For your money we have stopped you here,
Give us all your gold!”
The honest man replied “I’ve naught but silver in my pouch,
And I sleep out in the cold!"


He sprang from the saddle and unsheathed his sword,
Saying "Come! Who e'er thou art!"
An arrow from behind, and the horseman fell
The bolt had pierced his heart


The varlets rushed forth to where the rider lay
To rob while his life ebbed out
In her anger and grief his steed reared up
To bring the shrieking cowards down


One knave crawled away, to walk again no more
The others paid in blood
Mighty blows of iron shod hooves did leave
Them broken and dying in the mud


His faithful mare went to her master then
With lowered head she stood
His last breath came slowly as he bid farewell
And she departed through the silent wood


Miles away in the shady grove
His true lover cried
In that same instant her own heart had gone cold
She knew he would never arrive


Ride, ride, ride
Your lover does await
And from her eye doth fall a tear
Long awaiting your arrival


Near Crystal Lakes where the tall trees grow
A mounted horseman rides


Ride, ride, ride
Your lover does await
And from her eye doth fall a tear
Long awaiting your arrival
Long awaiting your arrival


Finis.

*               *               *


Instructor's grading comment:
Overall, a good piece of work, and shows a lot of time and effort put into it. I'll have to deduct a couple points due to your occasional slipping between Elizabethan or Shakespearean idiom and modern English, and I believe that a quatrain is a form of verse, so the correct term should have been "14 1/2 stanzas". Also your depiction of the action scene was a bit too detailed and could be considered blood-thirsty; on the other hand I'm pleased your telling of the protagonist's longing for his bride-to-be wasn't quite so lurid. Good work boys! A solid A-.
Note: Your titling this as a "Broadside Ballade" would imply a song form, and you might consider performing it for the class on an upcoming Free Form Friday session.


Me to Fred: "A-minus?! I think Old Man Warfield needs to wake up!”
Fred: “Hey Jim! We could toss a firecracker in his trash can on Free Form Friday!"
Me: “Let's do it!"
Narrator: This did not end well.

Poetry Week, Day 3, Free Verse: "Wondrous Things"

 

Wondrous Things


Late as usual, rushing through the square on an unsettled morning
There, ahead, an almost familiar face-
Perched on the edge of a park bench
A someone who could be me
But for wild hair, bent spectacles, undone buttons, mismatched socks
Staring about, or listening
Intently


I should stop, I'm thinking
Say hello, maybe talk awhile
Of whatever wondrous things this someone sees or hears:

About god -like rumbling threats from yet-unseen clouds
Tortured eyes staring from wooden fence boards
The baroque languages of dogs
Leering demon faces grinning up from puddles of rain
The unbearable shrieking pain of newly mown grass

A fantastic world easily entered
Possibly, impossible to leave
I should not ask where the doorway is, and yet
I would


But not this morning, I must hurry on
For I also imagine
Many things to do, places I must go
And meetings
With important people

*               *               *

100 years ago and more, this would not have been considered poetry, since there are no rhymes, and a cadence only an insane person could sense. Until recently, when there were such things, organized poetry recitals and beat poet slams were occasions to hear or declaim thought worthy bits of free verse. Now we can only go around muttering stuff to ourselves while most are staring into their portable entertainment devices as they walk into oncoming traffic. So who actually are the crazy ones?

Poetry Week, Day 2, Haiku: "Sakura Haiku"

Storm at Lake Ashi

Sakura falling on snow

We bid sad farewell

 

Bright red umbrella

Down the lane past Temple Hill

Fading though snowfall

Brushed ink on paper

Cherry tree near my window

Sakura Haiku

                                                      *               *               *

No comment needed. Everyone's heard of Haiku. Oh, you haven't?- well...

Poetry Week, Day 1, Small Poem: "Randy and Rhonda"

Randy and Rhonda

Randy Biddle was hidden
His acquittal
Forbidden

Rhonda Smittle was smitten
By the spittle
On his mitten

And a little yellow kitten
Who told a riddle
Was bitten!

*               *               *

Most, but not all, poetry considered "small" or "little poems" are written for small or little people - that is, children. One definition is a poem of nine or less lines, and this one qualifies, although a bit too strange to be in a Little Golden Book.

In the '00s, my business was repairing rural folks' satellite TV systems, almost anywhere and everywhere throughout Oregon. In the same day, I had a pair of customers with rather poetically complimentary names: Randy Biddle and Rhonda Smittle. One of them lived in the wild woods near Elmira, and the other just off the scenic highway between Cottage Grove and Lake Dorena that runs alongside the now-defunct Skunk Line railroad which played a prominent role in two classic films, Buster Keaton's "The General", and Rob Reiner's "Stand By Me".

Besides trying not to run off the road while gawping at the scenery, or avoiding head on collisions with drivers high on legal psychotropic medication, there wasn't much to do between jobs besides drive while mentally writing odd bits of poetry and snatches of song lyrics or melody. A normal person would have listened to the radio and absorbed other people's hallucinations, whether in song or rant. I instead would make up my own.

*               *               *

It's been almost a year since there's been a new post on this blog, and it seemed like a good way to celebrate an entire year of inactivity by having an event. Especially since although spring hasn't yet sprung, at least here in western Oregon it's definitely springing. Also it's the final week of Time As We Know It, and in just a few days most of us in this otherwise fine country get to engage in our yearly mass societal delusional temporal displacement known as Daylight Savings Time.

So I'll hereby declare a blog-wide Poetry Week, with a daily posting of verse in various styles, starting with the bit of absurdism above. And then, being up to my ears in projects both household and personal, there probably won't be another post for another year.

Meanwhile In The Back Yard

On a chilly rainy morning, there was a brown squirrel resting and keeping dry in a homemade bird feeding box. It may have been sleeping with its eyes open - when I came out into the yard it took awhile to notice me taking its picture. Do squirrels even have eyelids, and if so, do they ever blink? The answers are: yes, and not very often.

While up on a ladder hanging some suet feeders for the birds, I sensed, in peripheral vision, something moving above me. Looking up, I almost fell off the ladder when I saw these hazy tendrils of floating mist coming fast from the south. Pretty amazing in a subtle way.

This is sort of an update to the post "First Signs of Approaching Spring". A couple weeks later, sure enough more flowers have come up and opened: grape hyacinth, daffodils, and the first tulip. Up until recently the only things green in the yard have been grasses, but now that's changed. Soon those first few iris shoots will be waist high all along the back fence, and already it's time to get the lawnmower and trimmer out before the grass takes over everything.

You know what they say: "Let sleeping doves lie". That's probably also true for doves that are only resting. This mourning dove feels secure enough under the new spring foliage of a blueberry bush to take an open-eyed siesta in the early morning sun.

A couple of weeks ago when most of the yard was still fallow, a red shouldered hawk came down amidst a flock of 18 doves foraging for seed, quickly snatched one up, and flew off, all within a couple of seconds. There were feathers everywhere, and doves haven't been back in quite those numbers since. We're glad to see two or three now, and hopefully more as the leaf cover habitat for them improves.

*Update on the squirrel in the bird box: Probably the same squirrel, taking a short nap out of the rain: