Bucephalus is about 35 years old, the same age as Dante when he went to Hell, and needed some professional help.
John Pedersen of Pedersen’s Band & Orchestra of Burbank submitted the venerable baritone horn to a chemical bath and an array of exotic undentings. He said at one point that he had removed “28 years of gunk” from its pipes (I mention this because I can’t believe how much I am paying for the rental from a shyster outfit in Bellflower), and he also soldered various fittings back together that had come undone.
In addition to repairing instruments, Pedersen’s shop has music teachers on location as well as online. His site HornSmasher.com features a line of free instrument care videos, as well as graphic fotage of Susaphones being run over by steamrollers.
“You should use some duct tape,” said Rei Yoshioka, ardent fan.
“I would love some duct tape,” I said. Continue reading
Much to what would have been the surprise of his high school band instructor, Marty Barrett in February became an Endorsing Artist for the Conn-Selmer company, the thousand-year-old manufacturer of his King baritone horn. Continue reading
The word “douche,” like “Clamato,” has been unfairly represented in popular culture. It simply means shower or bath in the ancient language known as “French,” which scholars will note defines a potato as an earth apple. Continue reading
For four years of high school I did not clean my Baritone Horn once, nor my trumpet, nor my trombone. I was what is known as a “lackluster musician.” Now, that million$ are at stake, I made the connection between the otherworldly, Cthulhu-summoning sounds emitting from Bucephalus and the notion that perhaps the horn was innercaked with years of sludge.
So I learned on the Internet how to clean the thing, and above you see Step One: Bathe That Shit. 36 hours later my horn is loud, sweet, and clear, slathered with essential oils and greases, and rid of decades of Only-the-Los-Angeles-DWP-Knows-for-Sure.
See you this weekend at Pappy & Harriet’s.