Post by mr22 on Feb 4, 2023 22:56:48 GMT -5
I have a new hypothesis for why Gear Acquisition Syndrome happens. My hypothesis makes three assumptions.
(1) Playing skill improves incrementally, but your ears improve in discrete jumps.
If your guitar teacher tells you that you're making a lot of unwanted string noise, you will not be able to un-hear the string noise. You will feel like you've gotten much worse, because your perception has improved. But in reality you are hearing yourself more accurately.
Similarly, if you watch a video that talks about single-coil hum, you will notice single-coil hum more acutely. You do not know how to perceive something until you've figured out what to listen to. This is why your perception of your playing takes huge jumps.
(2) We compare our playing to the last time we played in the same context or 'tone.'
We implicitly compare our playing to the playing we did when we were last in a certain context. For example, if you play daily in your room, it will be hard for you to hear improvements. But if you visit a guitar shop monthly to try out guitars, you will feel like the
guitars you're testing out are making you play better. Not really. You are just hearing a month's worth of improvement because you are comparing your play today to your play a month earlier.
(3) If we are primed to believe GAS stories, we believe sudden reductions or increases in playing quality are due to gear rather than to skill.
When you perceive that you've gotten better or worse, you immediately try to come up with a story to explain the change. If you are primed to believe GAS stories or to believe that tone or skill can be purchased, you will give the gear credit for any change in your skills.
Using these three assumptions, I can explain a lot of my 'I sound great' or 'I sound like garbage' moments.
Story 1.
I had the chance to play a nasty, disused Squier Stratocaster. I had played the same guitar eight months earlier. When I played it the first time, it sounded awful. But I didn't expect much more than that, because it was a Squier that was covered with rust and dirt.
Last week when I played it, the Squier sounded so much better. I thought it sounded almost as good as the guitars that I have at home. This was a huge 'aha' moment. The Squier didn't improve. I was just able to hear how I had improved over eight months of practice.
Story 2.
I purchased my first looper pedal. I heard, for the first time, just how poor my rhythm is. I've been doing rhythm exercises daily using the looper. This has been a humbling experience.
I keep a cheap guitar at work. Immediately after I did the rhythm exercises, I took this office guitar out and played it. I had not played this guitar for a month. I sounded awful. It was easy for me to blame my lack of familiarity with this guitar -- I hadn't played it for a month -- but that explanation doesn't make sense. I wasn't familiar with the details of that Squier. I hadn't played it for eight months. But the Squier sounded great. I take a break from playing one guitar, and suddenly it sounds awful? I take a longer break from playing another guitar of a lower quality, and it sounds great? That makes no sense. It's much more likely that I was hearing my poor rhythm and blaming it on my gear.
Story 3.
After using a Joyo American Sound as my main amp for months, I tried out the Deluxe Reverb-alike setting on my Boss Katana after not hearing it for months. I was surprised by how good the Katana setting sounded. Once again, the Katana setting was the same as it ever was. The setting did not improve. I have just improved over several months, and I was ready to give the Katana preset the credit.
The hypothesis explains why tone-chasing feels like improvement. Suppose you have maybe three tones that you alternate between. You stick with one tone for months. Then if your perception of your abilities improves, you will think your tone has gotten worse. In response, you switch to one of your other standard tones. Now that you've changed the context of your playing, you will be able to perceive a huge improvement -- because you've improved since the last time that you used that tone. The sense that your tone has gotten worse (because your ears have gotten better) will be counteracted by the feeling that you've gotten better (because you're comparing your current play to the last time you used that tone). This may be the reason why many of us spend time switching between pedals
that are only marginally different or twisting knobs instead of practicing (like we should).
There are a few ways that this hypothesis could be falsified.
Go to a guitar shop and play a 'holy grail' guitar that will not be sold for maybe six months because it costs too much. Play it through a 'holy grail' amp that will not be sold for the same reason. Record the knob settings if you want to be super-scientific and repeat
them later. Then go home and commit to playing the same exact home rig
for six months. Mark the locations of every knob and keep them identical. Do not switch up pedals or patches or presets. Stick with one guitar if you can. Then go to the guitar shop and play the 'holy grail' setup again. Does the holy grail setup sound a lot better
the second time? The reason your home rig should stay identical is so you will not hear gradual improvements until you return to the 'holy grail' rig. If the holy grail setup sounds more or less the same as it did before, then my hypothesis has some problems.
A second way that the hypothesis could be falsified is if you have three or so main tones (or guitars or amps) that you alternate between every several months but switching between them yields no sense of improvement. If you practice daily, stick with the same tone config for months, but you feel like you're equally terrible whenever you make your tone switch, then I could be wrong.
On a personal note, owning a Harley Benton TE-62 and playing it through mediocre amps at my workplace (I'm a teacher, we have music rooms) has done wonders for my GAS. The HB is cheap. If you look carefully, you'll see some fit and finish issues that are just no good. I practice at home daily, so improvements at home seem gradual. But I play at work sporadically, so my HB seems to either be totally awesome or a complete dog. The guitar hasn't changed. What has happened is that my skills have taken a jump forward, or my ears have improved. I just notice the changes because I play the HB weekly or biweekly, so the session-to-session contrast is greater with the HB.
The HB experience has helped me with my GAS because I regularly have the "OMG, this thing kicks butt" experience with a $125 guitar. This "OMG..." experience is just as vivid as when I try out an expensive guitar in a guitar shop. This $125 guitar regularly feels like it as good as a Music Man or Suhr guitar that I've tried out in the shop. And on other days, it sounds like it is made out of balsa wood. The assumptions of this hypothesis do a great job of explaining how my perception could vary so much.
(By the way, the HB TE-62 is a great guitar. I think you can't go wrong with it. I've replaced the tuners -- the previous ones held tune fine, they were just a little annoying to restring -- and bought proper knobs. It's a fantastic guitar, not just a good guitar for the price.)
Another thought before I go. I think that many GAS episodes could be tamed or eliminated if we started referring to a guitarist's 'voice' rather than their tone. It would be absurd to hear a singer say "I really want to get Tom Waits' voice ... what microphone do I need to buy to really nail the Tom Waits voice?" Instead of saying "what pedal do I use to get that ZZ Top 'Eliminator' tone," we should hear "what pedal do I need to buy to have Billy Gibbons' voice?" Both things sound absurd. Lots of people need to be okay with the fact that they just sound like themselves.
Similarly, instead of doing 'covers' of songs, musicians could say that they're doing 'arrangements' of those songs. If you say you want to 'cover' Radiohead's Idioteque, you can estimate in about 3 seconds to the nearest thousand USD how much you would need to spend on synthesizers. But if you say 'I want to do an arrangement of Idioteque on my dreadnought,' then it becomes a skill-building puzzle that seems totally doable. (Imagine someone nailing 'Idioteque' on an acoustic! How cool would that be? I bet Madison Cunningham could do it.) If a cellist can nail 'Night Rider' and post it on YouTube (albeit with four tracks featuring the same person), then imagine what is possible if people get over doing 'covers' and start getting into 'arrangements' instead.