There’s always that one piece of gear, isn’t there? The one that sits in the back of your mind for years… a bit of a dream. For me, it was a Rickenbacker bass.
I’ve been playing bass for a long time now. Forty-five years, give or take. Started out like most people do, whatever you can get your hands on. In my case, that was a cheap as rubbish unbranded bass, then a rather nice active cherry red Westone model, followed oddly by a cheap Washburn white bass that somehow became the backbone of a lot of recordings about 35 years ago. But the Rickenbacker? That was something else entirely. At one point I owned a Japanese copy of a Rickenbacker (it was all I could afford) and regrettably I sold it as they are collectable now!
Rickenbacker basses have always had this kind of look and sound about them that I love. They’re like marmite though – many bass players hate them! For me it’s the look — that unmistakable, slightly dated, very 1950s design that somehow never needed updating. And the sound – oh the sound! You either know it or you don’t. It’s hard to describe, but once you hear it, you hear it everywhere.
And then there are the players. People like Lemmy from Motorhead, Geddy Lee from Rush, or Paul Gray from The Damned. They didn’t just play them, they made them sing. That growl, that bite, that aggressive edge cutting through the mix.
Me? I just… do what I can. It took a long time, but I finally got one. And not just any one — a genuine one, serial number checks out, the real deal. These things hold their value too. New, you’re looking at around five grand (NZ), and even second-hand, they don’t dip much. So picking one up for two and a half felt like a bit of a win!
And then you plug it in. It’s different. Not necessarily easier — in fact, quite the opposite. It’s not the kind of bass you casually noodle on. It’s a bit unforgiving, a bit particular – like driving a vintage car. Very trebly if you’re not careful. Needs a certain touch. A bit of force. Sometimes a pick works better than fingers, though if you have strong digits it rewards you with its ‘sound’.
I’m not someone who picks up a bass and instantly starts performing. I get a bit awkward with that, to be honest. Give me a song, give me a purpose, and I’ll settle into it. That’s where it works for me – when there’s a reason to play or a bass line to write and record.
And when it locks in… yeah, it’s a good feeling. So no, I’m not suddenly a better player because I’ve got a Rickenbacker. That’s not how it works. But I do love playing it. There’s something in that sound, that growl, that history… Took a while for me to get one but it was worth the wait.
