Every Fiddle Has A Story
I'm sure everybody has a story about how they got their
fiddle, right? Every fiddle has a story, I always say.
It was 1988 or so. I was starting to get pretty serious about
playing and I decided that I needed an instrument that was
a step up from the one I'd been playing (naturally, that one
has a story, too).
It was around this time that Pete Jung, a bass player I was
working with regularly, was starting to dabble in buying and
selling fiddles. He had met a guy who was closing up a violin
shop and the guy gave Pete a bunch of instruments and bows
to see if he could sell them. Pete showed up at one of our
gigs with his car full of fiddles. I think I played 20-odd
fiddles, and by the end of the day I had settled on one. I
took it home with me and played it for a few weeks.
It had not been played for a while, so it loosened up over
the course of a few weeks and just sounded better and better.
I played it for a dance after a month or so (I actually had
my old fiddle with me, in case for some reason the new fiddle
and I didn't get along) and I was pleased.
What really hooked me, though, was when I was practicing with
some guys for a thing we were doing at their church. During
a break in the rehearsal I had the church sanctuary to myself.
I played the fiddle and it just filled the room. I recall
thinking at the time that this was the first time I had really
heard the full voice of that fiddle. I think this was due
to a combination of it finally having been broken in after
years of inactivity and me being accustomed to it enough that
I was able to get the most out of it. It took a few months
but we finally got to know each other, you could say. Playing
in a big room with good acoustics didn't hurt, of course.
And I've been playing it ever since.
The label says
Eduard Reichert
224 Dresden 1880
Pete went on to do quite a bit of business buying and selling
fiddles. He knew all the good players from his years playing
bass and guitar, and he has a knack for "horse trading" and
making deals. When we were recording "Moving Clouds" we
visited a music shop around the corner from the studio. Pete
saw a couple of fiddles and struck up a deal on them. As we
walked out the door with them he told me he was probably
going to double his money on them when he took them home and
found the right buyer.
You can hear me, the fiddle, and Pete Jung on the Moving Clouds CD.
True story.
Take a look
(link opens in a new tab)
Suggested reading:
My First Time at Greenfield
In which I find a new home. Metaphorically speaking.
I Can Quit Whenever I Want To
In which I kick the coffee habit. Until about lunch time.
Full Moon Over Peterborough
In which Bob shows the dancers what he's made of.
Perhaps Samuel Butler was right
In which I learn that "on the job training" is not always the best choice.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen... Grab yer partners!
Caller Bernie Chalk came not to bury Caesar but to do-si-do with him.
Some experience required.
You never forget your first time.
Time Travel!
Return to those days of yesteryear
The $20 Fiddle Tune
We're not in it for the money, but neither do we turn it down.
Is That Guy Okay?
A case of mistaken identity.
Every Fiddle Has a Story...
... but they can't talk.
Mmm, Ham...
In which Pete and I rely on the kindness of strangers.
Not Sure Who Won But I Can Tell You Who Lost
In which I wind up with farm fresh historically accurate Colonial-era egg on my face.
Happy New Year
In which the New Year creeps in on little cat feet.