A long time ago (the ’80’s), in a galaxy far, far away (again, the ’80’s), there was a ride. A ride that stood for everything that was good and pure in that world. Some would say it was Star Tours, but with flying hamster-moths instead of droids. Others would say it was Labrinth, just with interchangeable pop stars. But it was so much more than that. It was the robot with a mustache’s peg leg becoming a guitar. It was the hi-hat cymbal sound inexplicably linked to Michael Jackson’s pelvic movements. It was the King of Pop’s musical rainbow rays turning scary industrial monsters into happy, slightly gender-indeterminate dancers. It was the unabashed hope that seemed to permeate that decade that perhaps a time was coming when we could live and dance and sing and not worry if it was cool or not. A time when claymation puppets and humans could live hand in hand, and not be oppressed by Angelica Huston swinging from metal ducts over a post-apocalyptic dance floor. It was music…changing the world.
See the wonder. And not only see……but hear!
It’s the ’80’s as they were meant to be.
Contrast that with Guitar Center, that I went into earlier that day, that had one slide. No, not one type of slide. One slide. The one sitting on the counter for demo’s. I’m playing somewhere this weekend where a slide is needed for a certain song, and I didn’t realize it until the day before, so I go to Guitar Center to buy a full-size slide and a ring slide. The salesman tells me they only have full-size slides. I ask which brands. He holds up the used slide on the counter right in front of him. I ask if they have any other sizes. He says they might, if the slide I was holding wasn’t the only one in the store. How am I supposed to change the world with musical rainbow rays if my tone is hindered by Guitar Center not caring, not even a little, about tone, selection, music, or even just staying in business as a company? I mean, if they don’t even have a selection of slides, there goes my hope of finding a sophisticated old robot who can transform into a guitar, microphone, and drumset at the first note from a synthesizer. Guitar Center, you’ve had 25 years to come up with that robot…but I’d settle for just a slide that hasn’t been on someone else’s finger. But I guess the fact that I’m going to try to change the world tonight with my intensely toneful slide solo’s (meaning, Bullet the Blue Sky ripoffs) isn’t very important to you.
Captain Eo would not be pleased.
P.S. The best part is when Michael unlocks the bass player with his musical lasers. You can tell because he jumps out, and immediately slap bass on rubber strings starts grooving like it was 1989. Miss Huston should know better than to hire as her guards monsters that have on their resume’s that they were former bass players. They just can’t handle hearing that groove and not joining in.