The Journey of My Musical Arsenal

My musical life is a meandering stream with an ultimate destination and no urgency.  I improvise.  It has a methodical and consistent framework, but my ability to actualize the agenda is limited.  I resort to installments.  Surprisingly to me ramifications of my work resurface, reconstitute, and reinforce themselves as the original concepts for which I have striven.  My musical gear moves around; some of it.  The vintage and tangible instruments have found permanent places, which they need.  The portable keyboard gear meanders in this stream coagulating at a bend, rendering a brief concert, then moving on.  The ultimate configuration of my keyboards had to be malleable, and its sheer size necessitated disassembly at different times.  Destiny deemed they would find their true ensemble positions, so their physical attraction to one another was inescapable.  The symphony orchestra evolved over centuries as new instruments emerged culminating in a sonic soundscape that could satisfy the human soul.  Electronic keyboards are no different, and if one pays attention their compatibility will reveal itself.  The decision to remain loyal to or move on from a concept can be difficult.  It results in trial and error.  You may try to maintain, but obstacles keep surfacing.  You can move on, but you may lose the essence of your goal.  Such is true with my best portable keyboard rig, which I designed and built in the late 1990's.  Playing Hip Hop and R&B, I discovered the piano was not efficient.  The Hammond B-3 organ has influenced many genres of music such as Gospel, Jazz, Rock, R&B, and Soul.  The crux of the Hammond organ is its sheer volume.  An electro-acoustic instrument  is the best of both worlds.  (like the Rhodes)  The sonic beauty of a vibrating or spinning mechanism, and its amplification from a wound coil feeding a preamplifier is enviable.  The Hammond is an instrument of genius, like the Rhodes.  Hauling and miking an acoustic piano is not for faint of heart.  Digital pianos make this easier, but the sound and feel is counterfeit.  I designed a Hammond organ replica console with two keyboards used as controllers.  They trigger external sound sources.  Organ is one sound, but strings, clavinet, and Moog round out the palette.  My solution was effective and lasted two decades.  The crucial component of this rig, the MIDI controlled patch bay, began to fail from aging electrolytic capacitors.  I replaced some of them.  In my meandering stream its performance ebbed and flowed wreaking havoc on my sanity.  I was able to purchase used replacements for these units, and because they are newer perhaps they will endure.  During this struggle I rebuilt the rack completely and improved it.  I added another tone module, AC power supply, and replaced the worn patch cables.  Now after twenty-six years I am able to use this rig again.  I move ahead with cautionary determination expecting probable failure.  If you have fixed it once, you can fix it again.  It takes time, the installment method.  The gift of this actualization is familiarity.  When I play it feels like an old baseball glove.  Like riding a bike, you never forget.  My fingers feel comfort and love as they connect with my temporarily lost sound.  I am reminded of why I created this system, and how well it serves. I have two additional keyboards I want to add, and it will come to me.  You have to be patient, and it will come to you.  Never lose faith, give up hope, or stop trying.  There are treacherous cliffs, ravines, and briar patches, but one has to get through it.  The last man standing wins.