Every musician can think of at least one piece of gear they sold years ago, convinced they’d never need it again. Then, years later, they find themselves thinking, “Why on earth did I get rid of that?” I’ve got a few.
The first was a cheap Japanese copy of a Rickenbacker 4001 bass from the 1970s. It wasn’t a real Rickenbacker and, to be honest, it didn’t sound like one either. But it looked fantastic. It was lightweight, easy to play and perfect for gigs where there was always that little worry that your gear might disappear before the end of the night. It cost £80 compared to £800 for a real one. £800 was a lot of money to risk losing in the early 90s! Looking back, I wish I’d kept it. Not because I’d use it every day, but because those old Japanese copies have become collectable in their own right. It would look pretty good sitting in the corner of the studio, reminding me of a different chapter of my musical life.
Then there was my Tascam 16-track half-inch reel-to-reel recorder. When digital recording took over, I did what many people did. I sold the tape machine to help fund the next generation of technology. At the time it made perfect sense. The machine was huge, heavy and every house move became a logistical exercise. Today? I’d love to have it back. Would I use it every week? Probably not. But there is something about laying down vocals or guitars onto tape that still appeals. I even had the synchroniser that allowed the tape machine to lock perfectly with a computer, giving me the best of both analogue and digital worlds. Those interfaces are incredibly difficult to find now.
The one that really hurts, though, is an Otari MX-5050 two-track reel-to-reel. A local radio station was clearing out equipment and offered me one for fifty dollars. In fact, I could have bought all three they had $50 each. I bought one, used it for a couple of years… and eventually sold it. Today, a good working example can fetch thousands of dollars. Do I regret it because of the money? Not really. I’d simply love to have it sitting in the studio, ready to print the occasional final mix onto tape just to add a little analogue character. Or maybe that’s just nostalgia talking.
The funny thing is, when we look back at the gear we’ve owned, it’s rarely about having the latest or the most expensive equipment. It’s about remembering where that gear took us. The bass that played heaps of gigs in the earlier years. The tape machine that captured your first album. The recorder you learned to mix on. Those pieces of equipment become part of your story.
Technology moves on. We upgrade and convince ourselves we’ll never miss the old stuff. Sometimes we’re right. Sometimes we’re very, very wrong.
If you’re clearing out your studio today, it might be worth asking yourself one simple question: “Will I regret selling this in ten years?” If the answer is “maybe,” you might want to find a corner of the room and hang onto it just a little longer.
