Okay, so I know this sounds contrived, but last night, in a bizarre turn-of-events that is certainly in no way a journalistic exploitation of the fact that it's almost Christmas or to a certain Victorian word-monger, I was visited by THREEEEEE SPIIIIIIIRITS!
Spooky, I know. Here's a recap from my journal... I mean, "Xanga":
- 1:00 AM
Ghost of Musical Christmas Past arrives in my room. I freak out.
- 1:05 AM
I calm down. We fly out the window, stop at Waffle House. Ghost of Xmas Musical Past has an egg white omelet. I just have coffee.
- 1:35 AM
Ghost flies me to Memphis 1952, where jazz guitarist and inventor Les Paul and the Gibson corporation prepare to release their new "Les Paul Gold Top" guitar just in time for Christmas! This 1952 Les Paul features two state-of-the-art, P-90, single-coil pickups and a one-piece, ‘trapeze’-style bridge and tailpiece, with strings that were fitted under (instead of over) a steel stop-bar. Despite these technological amenities, guitar playing is still quite the act of performance art, as this original Les Paul guitar has problems with intonation, neck angle, and pitch and require a good ear and a real "musician's touch" to perform on.
- 1:53 AM
Ghost flies me home bewildered. I go in for a hug. Ghost backs away and extends hand for shake. It's awkward. Ghost then disappears promptly.
- 2:00 AM
Huge guy appears in my room, calls himself the Ghost of Musical Christmas Present. I know the routine this time, so I put my shoes and coat back on.
- 2:03 AM
We hit the streets. It's the next morning, somehow, and everyone is staring. I'm tired. Ghost wants to bum a cigarette from me. I try the “dude, I only have like 3 left” line, but it doesn’t work.
- 2:10 AM
Ghost of Musical Christmas Present whisks me over to a present-day Memphis guitar plant where the Gibson guitar company is eagerly preparing to release the world's first self-tuning guitar on December 7, 2007 (also just in time for Christmas!). This technological whiz of a guitar, apparently called the “Bigson Robot Les Paul,” will retail for around £1,400, the ghost tells me.
- 2:12 AM
I explain to the ghost that I'm American and don't know what that price means. Ghost rolls his eyes and tells me that it's $2,200.
- 2:13 AM
Ghost continues his diatribe, explaining that, aside from being ludicrously expensive, this new gadget will actually allow different tuning presets to be "stored in its memory," meaning tomorrow's players can simply push buttons to flick between presets without actually having to alter the string tuning by hand. Gibson apparently bills this as a "remarkable music experience" and claims that this new axe will be available at 400 music retailers across the world.
- 2:21 AM
I think that this technological advance sounds "sweet." But the ghost disagrees. Says something about how, in time, advances like these will lead to the ruination of creativity and artistry in popular music, etc.
- 2:40 AM
I'm weary from his lecture. Ghost of Musical Christmas Present rolls his eyes, snaps his fingers. Boom. I'm back home.
- 3:02 AM
Ghost of Musical Christmas Future shows up. "You're a little late," I say. Ghost flips me off. Apparently, this guy doesn't really talk.
- 3:03 AM
Ghost wastes no time shuttling me to the Gibson plant of the distant future, which is now located not in Memphis, but in Beverly Hills, California. I take a look around and see, to my horror, that manual electric guitars are no longer being produced. I pick a Guitar Center Christmas ad book out of a nearby trash can and promptly read the front-page advertisement for the 2057 Gibson "Guitar Hero XXIV" model. There are no strings; there is no wood. Lights and buttons are everywhere. Thanks to the needless technology first used by Gibson's 2007 "Bigson Robot" model, guitar playing has apparently now become a video game that any idiot can play as long as he or she is willing to shell-out the cash. A "free tab" sheet in the ad depicts a very foreign series of triangles, squares, Xs, and stars. The title at the top of the page reads: "Master of Puppets," by Metallica. I realize that the Ghost of Musical Christmas Present was right after all. There is much wailing, gnashing of teeth, etc.
- 3:15 AM
Distraught and upset with Gibson, I commit suicide by running in front of a Gibson truck that is hastily leaving the plant in order to deliver these sinister, self-playing guitars all over the world. But just as everything is fading to black... I WAKE UP.
I know! Creepy, right?!?
What does all of this MEAN, you ask?
Well, to be honest, I don't rightly know if it was all a dream or not. My girlfriend assures me that it was. My stoner friend who listens to Tenacious D all day swears that it wasn’t. Either way, just to be on the safe side, if you want to keep the musical world safe from swift, mechanized, creativity-squelching oblivion, DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES visit this address this Christmas.
You have been warned.