Brad Kaenel

June 3, 1994: The Eagles, "Hell Freezes Over" tour; San Bernardino, CA June 4, 1994: Barbra Streisand, "The Concert" tour, Anaheim, CA Haven't been to too many big stadium concerts, but the two best were back-to-back. Talk about a vocal performance perfection weekend; just sublime. The Eagles; as said above, nothing flashy on-stage, almost as if the audience wasn't even there. But they delivered every song with panache and enviable musicianship. Barbra Streisand; what can you say? A note-perfect 3-hour solo performance; Marvin Hamlisch conducting the orchestra. We could only afford the nose-bleed tix, but on arrival we were offered new seats right next to the stage because of sight-line issues the previous night. Magical.

Breakfast at the "Mellow Mushroom" seemed the right way to begin the day 😁, with the Moogseum (yes, pronounced "Mogue-zee-um") just two doors down the sidewalk. Fun little venue; lots of interesting history, well-presented, but it is a very tiny space (less than 1K sq.ft.) Had one really well-done interactive exhibit that walked you through patching a semi-modular synth, complete with color-coded patch cables and LEDs over the jacks. First time I've ever done that. The Liberation was there but, unfortunately, not on display. 🤥 Locked up in the back room until they re-arrange some space to show it. So, still no joy on seeing or touching the restoration. Moog factory tour began with a very thorough and engaging talk about Bob's life, family, collaborators, and how Moog Music began and evolved. I wasn't aware that the Theremin figured so prominently, nor that the MiniMoog, though it eventually, saved the company, had actually been an unsanctioned "skunkworks" project that the engineers had done after-hours, against Bob's wishes. No robots, automation, or anything fancy in the factory-proper area; just many dedicated people testing circuit boards, assembling keyboards and casework, and packaging finished product. Every Moog product available for purchase comes out of that one building, that has previously been an auto showroom, a nightclub, and a handful of other things. Not allowed to take photos, but if you've seen the tour videos of Nord, VVibe, Rhodes, Syntaur, etc., then you get the flavor.

Oh, yah, we also drove by this place, just out of morbid curiosity: I guess I kinda expected to find an old, columned Antebellum estate -- but all I could see from the parking lot was a bunch of big aluminum buildings and an RV campground... Chalk it up to my uncultured-swine GPS tourism -- I didn't learn until we got back to the hotel that the Graceland Mansion (the picture I had in my head) *is* nearby, but further down the road; we missed it... 😣

On the road to Asheville, NC and all things Moog, we pulled off into Memphis to catch an early dinner at "B.B. King's". Smaller and a little, um, "grittier" than the edition in Nashville, but still fun. Although I *was* glad to be off the street before dark , I still love me some blues...

Since I missed seeing the Liberation at NAMM, my wife and I (and the Chihuahua) structured our conference road trip to Memphis so that we could spend this Friday in Asheville, NC, take the Moog factory tour, and visit the Moogseum where the Liberation is, now. Never been to that part of the country; really looking forward to it! More to come...

If you end up digging APP, then definitely also give a listen to Jeff Wayne's "War of the Worlds" -- an absolutely gorgeous, delicious slice of prog cheese, on the same shelf: Jeff Wayne's "War of the Worlds"

That 1.08 update was pretty recent, but 1.09 is now the latest OS: Legend 70s firmware

I love Rhodes pianos, and have restored several, but I agree that it's difficult to assess right away whether you've been gifted or cursed! Opening one up can feel like an Indiana Jones adventure -- or a Forrest Gump moment ("You never know what y'gonna get.")

I'm not really a drummer, but I can do some pretty good rhythmic patterns, slapping my knees and thighs! Thought I'd give this kit a try myself, but really it's an experiment for one of my percussionists at church who plays standard kit, and cajon, to see if this "cocktail kit" will work for some quick Christmas choir in-and-out visits to senior homes, during December.

Seven years of classical and pop, age 9-16. My teacher was a Hungarian refugee during the Cold War who loved Lizst and Western pop music; he had been a piano-bar-style club entertainer. Truth be told, we did the classical stuff (and the JohnThompson/Hanon/Czerny litany) because the music store he worked out of required it -- but we usually zoomed through that to get to the pop material. 🤫 I didn't go the classical route, so I lost most of my technical facility and dexterity, eventually. But what I did learn, in spades, was how to make music when there's little or no actual notation: playing from lead sheets, recognizing and voicing chord symbols, improvising accompaniment, etc. Through high school and college I actually did a lot of choir accompaniment, so I kept my reading skills. But I was also in the jazz ensembles learning to "comp" as a rhythm player, learning different "feels", paying attention to arrangement. That segued me to musical theater, which has been the longest-running thread for me. I only wish I had had just a little more formal music theory instruction in my formative jazz years in high school; I never became a very good soloist.

Gator GKB-61 Slim Pics from earlier in this thread: https://forums.musicplayer.com/topic/180089-new-studiologic-numa-x-piano/?do=findComment&comment=2898913

Well, yes, first time I've ever written it down -- but I've told it a lot. Thanks, T!

I think there's always the temptation to deflect when things don't go the way you'd hoped, but in this case there's really no fault to be placed on either the singers, nor the process. What I walked into that day was, in nearly every way, identical to what I had been doing, fairly effectively, in the amateur theater community for years. And that's the point I want to make -- the real difference between the amateurs (in the best possible sense) and the professionals. In community theater the stakes are not nearly as high, and the difficulty of the audition material not nearly as great; at least, that's my assumption. When your auditionees are mostly kids and workaday moms and dads, you can bet that half of the tunes you're asked to play are going to be "Disney princess" songs, and "Happy Birthday". Nor are you threatening anyone's livelihood since community theater is principally volunteer. Nor is the audition panel likely to start tapping their pencils impatiently while you work with an anxious singer who's forgotten their lyrics. My error was assuming that I could simply "change lanes" from the minors into the Big Leagues, without any requisite increase in skill. Of course, we will never grow if we don't try things that are "beyond us", once in a while; I get that, and we all do it. This was just such a huge leap, and I misjudged the distance quite badly (perhaps even arrogantly).

Well, OK; I hope the years have not embroidered fancier details and turned it into a "big fish" story -- there are no corroborating witnesses still alive. But here's the account, and my cautionary tale of a lesson learned in an extraordinarily-hard way... Summer of 1987(?); Disneyland had recently moved their HR office out of the Park, to a high-rise on Katella, near the I-57 freeway exit. I brought them a resume, and asked if they could place me on their list of pianists to call, for rehearsals only. I was clear that I desired only backstage work; I wasn't looking to be a "Cast Member" performer in the Park. They said they would. Months went by, not a single call. I don't really know what I expected to happen -- they didn't know me from Adam. Middle of November, lo and behold, the call comes: Friday was audition day for the Park's annual Christmas program, and all of their usual pianists were unavailable (in other words, they'd gotten to the bottom of their list, and I was the only name left). Could I play for 'vocal auditions on Friday, and callbacks on Saturday?' Absolutely! I didn't even ask how much the gig paid -- I would have done it for free, just to get "in the door" with the House of Mouse... For about a dozen years prior to this, I'd been playing for vocal auditions at a couple of major community theaters in my area, and doing pretty well at it, I thought. Audition work is all about sizing-up and sight-reading music, getting your auditionee to trust you that you've "got their back", and doing both of those things very quickly. Two complete strangers have about 30 seconds to agree on tempo, intro, interpretation, sometimes the key (oy!), and then just do it. And, as Forrest says, 'You never know what you're gonna get' in terms of actual notation, since a lot of vocalists have little idea what pianists need, nor what will make their particular audition go smoothly (or nightmarishly). Sometimes they hand you a vocal score with just a melody line and no accompaniment; sometimes accompaniment with no lyrics or markers to sync with what (or where) they're singing; sometimes it's their favorite impossibly-complex Sondheim diddy in six sharps; sometimes it's just 'I didn't bring a chart, but it's <insert Broadway song title here> in Gb, from the bridge into the chorus'; and sometimes you do actually get some easy-reading sheet music with a melody line, chords, lyrics, and a title. It can be stressful because you're there to help your auditionee do well, and you know that if things go sideways it may be them, not you, who can't make the rent next month. ...so, Friday morning I show up early at the backlot gate, and there's already a line of probably 200 singers, waiting to be called in. I strike up a conversation with one random fellow, about thirtieth in the queue, who's done this many times. I tell him I'm the rookie audition pianist, he shows me his nicely-prepped music for a song I already knew, we wish each other luck, and I'm feeling like I can actually do this. Shortly, I'm greeted warmly by a gal who is probably an exec admin for one of the music biggies at the Park, she walks me into the audition building, restates my contract particulars, and briefly introduces me to the four audition panelists. One of them goes over the (typical and familiar) audition procedures, they all thank me and gesture me to the piano. 'Let's get started.' First singer of the day hands me the vocal part for an operatic aria; no accompaniment; all I can do for him is play a one-finger melody. Second singer, the dreaded Sondheim diddy I've never heard before; stagger through it, clams abound, probably got the feel all wrong. Third singer, no music at all. And it just gets worse from there; I'm crashing-and-burning on just about everything, wincing every time I'm handed another unfamiliar, inscrutable piece of music to play, not evoking a shred of confidence to the poor auditionees who are giving me every 'you ruined my audition' stink-eye look in the book (which I deserved), and word is beginning to get around outside that the audition pianist sucks. Mercifully, when the singer I'd talked with earlier gets his call, everything goes swimmingly -- I play well, he sings well, gives me a thumbs-up; I'm encouraged. But then the next dozen auditions go no better than the first. I keep imploding on just about everybody, with maybe 1 in 10 auditions going the way I hoped. This goes on relentlessly for four hours, until we break for lunch. The audition panel, their admins, and me are then directed across the street to a nice restaurant, where lunch is waiting. Everyone who had been so welcoming and supporting when I arrived is now not speaking to me. At all. I'm seated by myself, at a separate table, out of earshot of the main group who is undoubtedly lamenting the miserable pianist who has torpedoed their auditions for Disneyland's "Christmas Celebration". I am a pariah. Lunch drags on, everyone (including me) dreading returning back to the audition studio. Finally, one of the audition panelists takes pity on me, and walks over to my table. I never learned his name, but to this day I'm still a little in awe of his compassion and humility towards me. This could have been the fellow who actually wrote the "Main Street Electrical Parade" theme, or orchestrated the score for "Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln". He was one of "the guys" in the Park, and this is what he came over to say: "You know, despite all the real difficulties you've had this morning, I know you can play. When you're given a song you recognize, even if the actual music is in bad shape, you get through it well. You have good ears, and you listen to your singers and follow them. Your problem is that you're simply unfamiliar with most of the material that's being handed to you, and you don't know what it's supposed to sound like -- you can't even fake it. If you want to work at this level, you must make it your job to not be surprised. You should know the Broadway songbook; old shows and the new. Movies, too. I don't mean memorized, but at least familiar. You must purpose yourself to vastly increase the breadth of the show music you know, because people will bring you all manner of things to play and it's your responsibility to not be stumped. Or even if you are, to be able to play your way out of it." Right then I realized the vast chasm that exists between a merely competent amateur (me) and a real professional (him; and probably most of you reading this). The afternoon, of course, despite the kind words from Mr. Big, did not go any better. At the end of the day, the exec admin who had cheerfully escorted me onto the property that morning, now dismissed me with sarcastic assurance that I could find my own way out. I would be paid for Saturday, as the contract specified, but I would not be needed -- they would use some recordings from last year's Celebration for callbacks, instead. I limped dejectedly back to my car, tail squarely between my legs, mostly devastated by my first (and to this day, only) brush with professionals in the "real" entertainment industry. Now, the Hollywood ending would go something like this: Young man spends the next years of his life immersing himself in the literature, taking his ersatz mentor's sage advice to heart, diving back in and "making it" in the music business... Nah. I knew from that day on that I didn't have the "right stuff" to be a pro player, and I was, frankly, OK with that. Music has been an avocation all my life, while I made a living being a pro in a completely different field. And I still love rehearsals.

I'll just cite, collectively, that all the rehearsals I ever had with the the jazz/fusion band I co-founded in 1980, with six of my college buddies, were always focused, hard-working, and a true joy. We rehearsed for three hours every Wednesday night, in our drummer's sound-proofed garage, for something like 15 years. Writing songs, working out arrangements, and, yes, practicing choreography. I left the band, IIRC, circa 1998, so the current keyboard player has actually been on the band now longer than I was. And the band still plays, with four of the original members, one Sunday afternoon a month, not too far from where I live. I still go 2-3 times a year, just to be with my long-time buds (and they let me sit in, if I behave myself ) Four decades and we've never even had a cross word -- it has always been just about making our music, entertaining our audience, and enjoying playing with each other. Shifting gears a little: rehearsals have always been my favorite aspect of being a musician. My daughter, the athlete, and I always joke about sports teams that "rehearse" exactly the same thing over and over again, so that they can be creative during "performances". Where as in, say, my theater world it's exactly the opposite: all the creativity happens during the rehearsals, and it's the performances that are exactly the same. Now, being a jazz guy, performances have a certain level of creativity, too. But I'm still all about rehearsals. That's my favorite thing to do these days, just to be the rehearsal pianist for a show. Or the audition pianist; that's usually a blast, too. (Although I could tell you a whopper of a story about my epic failure as an audition pianist for the Christmas Celebration at Disneyland, once. Ouch...)

Yep. Called it. 😆 Truth be told, the Petersen preamps were not exactly paragons of electrical engineering, either. They could sound like Behringers, too. 😝 And yes, Nir’s outboard preamp sounds very good. I tried to buy one of them for years, but he had never built more than his prototype. So now he builds 50 and I still don’t get one? Inconceivable! Sweet axe, man. I always preferred the Stage models. Nice.

I should add that the RetroFlyer is powered by a wall wart, not a battery, and you might prefer not to have to plug your Stage into an elec outlet. In that case, you will need to find a stereo stompbox.

You have a Stage, yes? Run, do not walk, to: Avion RetroFlyer Preamp Nir will hate it. 😊 If too much $$, then an MXR Phase 90 and a Roland Boss Chorus are classic stomp boxes you may be able to pickup used. Note that these are mono, however. You can't get the stereo "ping-pong" tremolo/chorus of a Suitcase, because the Suitcase has a stereo preamp. Cue the RetroFlyer, which will give you that stereo effect on a Stage.

I never had any of Rhodes retrofitted for MIDI, but I believe it’s the QRS PNOScan optical system that is most often used: QRS PNOScan It does cost $2K; and then there would be the labor to install it, which would require some cutting and re-fitting of the key rails, below the keybed: Installation pix Note that the only MIDI data this system generates is NOTE and VELOCITY; there's no pitch bend, no modulation, etc. Zones and multiple Channels might be possible, but it would have to be configured "off instrument" with a computer, so probably not convenient to change on-stage. It's a pretty basic, vanilla MIDI implementation -- it doesn't turn your Rhodes into a synth, but it obviously works, and could be just the perfect thing for certain applications. Though I can't imagine the experience of playing an AP patch would be all that satisfying from a Rhodes keybed.

Yes, I've used Ken's straddlers, not for gigging, but stationary studio setup; worked fine for me. Nir, to his credit, isn't a fan of most "after-market" accessories. Ken's straddlers transfer the weight of the keyboard it's supporting to the Rhodes' plywood case/frame in the rear, and to the aluminum name rail in the front. Technically, you could probably bow that aluminum rail if the second board was very heavy or you were really pounding it, but I think in practice that's quite unlikely. The straddlers are not adjustable for angle/pitch, or overhang; if you're going to be particular about that, I would probably suggest using an A-frame stand that the Rhodes just sits under.

Hmmm... I owned both a VC73 with this case, and a CP73. The VC73 is a very thin board; only about 3.5" in height. I'd judge a CP73 to be at least 2" thicker -- no way it could fit in the Vox case. And the CP73 is 10 lbs. heavier; Vox case isn't robust enough for that, either.

IMHO, the "miracle mod" is a must-have if you plan to use the Rhodes at all regularly. It makes such a dramatic difference in playability that Rhodes eventually changed the shape of their hammers to include the "mod" (i.e. factory built-in). It's expensive not in terms of materials, but in the labor. You could do it yourself using a kit from VV, and referring to their videos. It's not a difficult job if you're a careful, patient person -- but it does require several hours to complete. Glad to hear that Nir is still operating!

Quite welcome, Dave! Nir was da bomb for me for several years; I think he teched at least a half-dozen for me when I was in "collector-mode", a few years back. I hope he's still in business; but as another thread has recently said, it's increasingly difficult to make a living when you're an expert in a fading discipline...

Nir Benjaminy Fender Rhodes LA also: Custom Vintage Keyboards Ken is the king; priciest and longest wait-time. Nir is excellent; reasonable and shortest turn-around. CVK is somewhere in the middle. I've been a customer of all three; mostly Nir at FRLA. I presume all three are still operating, but I haven't had need to confirm that since before COVID. Depending on how extensive the repairs, you might find that working on the Rhodes yourself isn't as bad as you might think. Vintage Vibe has lots of well-done videos on various common repairs and tune-ups: VV Shop Talk