“The
AGA, she is dead. The eggs, they will not scramble. This breakfast,
she is not working. Le poopie.”
This
morning, in countries all over the world, my friends of the facebook
persuasion were greeted by this mournful statement. Messages of
sympathy and condolence rushed in, with offers to mail scrambled eggs
from near and far (mostly far, which is why I didn't go for it),
expert tips on the alternatives of eating scrambled eggs (to wit, not
eating scrambled eggs, which isn't an option I'm prepared to
entertain) and in one case (Barra) a full and comprehensive list of
links of where to buy all the things I need to make and eat scrambled
eggs without the use of a static cooking apparatus. Thanks Barra.
Through the tears and the heart-wrenching moans, it struck me that
some of you may not understand how someone can develop such a strong
symbiotic relationship with a cooker. It's very simple, but to be
properly fathomed, it requires a little history lesson. Please note
that, over the course of my research, there have been several areas
where information has not been forthcoming, interesting, or both. I
have therefore used by own common sense to fill in the blanks
AGAs.
They're an interesting breed. Paleontologists have found fossil
evidence to suggest that great herds of AGA once traveled the plains
and grasslands of Sweden. They were briefly hunted for their horns,
but man's interest in these dwindled when it was realized they don't
have any, and there was much awkward shuffling of feet. Sometime
between 1322 and 1911, a male and female AGA were presented to the
King and Queen of England by a naturalist and confirmed
hanky-pankyist. The pair promptly escaped from
a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today,
still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune.
If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find
them, maybe you can hire the A-Team and
slowly populated the British Isles with their progeny, and the modern
AGA was born. In stark contrast to its distant ancestor, this modern
AGA was a solitary and slow-moving exothermic creature. Mindful of
the whole 'horn' debacle, they avoided humans (cos you just don't
forget that shit), and humans, being generally a bit embarrassed
about the episode in question, pretty much left them to their own
devices.
This
peaceful co-existence was brought to a big ol' cock of an end when
scrambled eggs were invented by Sir Joshua Scramble (who also
invented the popular past-time Chicken-On-A-Trampoline on the very
same day... the talented scallywag). When it emerged that these great
hulking gentle giants were best for scrambling eggs, they were
mercilessly hunted throughout the countryside. Typically, a highly
paid mercenary (known for some reason as a
Matthew-Of-The-Hidden-Valley, and later, simply as an Aga-man) would
spot a wild AGA and alert his employers, who would build a house
around the poor creature and then move in. It's a common
misconception that the house comes first and the AGA is later
installed; a gross disrespect to the noble animal in question.
Subscribing to the tenet of 'Location, location, location', an
Aga-man, a team of builders and the eventual home-owners would
sometimes follow an AGA nonstop for months until it reached a
suitable south-facing location.
For
the discerning cook, the AGA is an ideal pet. In exchange for a
modest diet of oil or gas, the AGA will cook your food, boil your
water, and heat the kitchen. They require little in the way of
cleaning up and training. My efforts to take ours for a walk has, to
date, been largely fruitless, but I shall persevere. The total
inability to increase or decrease the amount of heat provided
instigated the 'It'll Be Ready When It's Fecking Ready!' school of
culinary design. Research shows that AGAs introduced into the wild
has a hard time adjusting, especially the red ones. It's important to
remember how dependent we are on one another, ever more so in April
which, as we all know, is Hug An AGA Month. So take time out of your
busy schedule to hug an AGA, then bask, as I do, in the worried faces
of concerned family and friends.
...
anyway...
Music
is also going well. The Easter bank holiday was a finger-bruising
affair of four One Horse Pony gigs unceremoniously stuffed into three
days, mentioned in my last post as 'PonyFest' The final night was a
bluesy marathon of two 2-hour shows played back to back; first our
weekly acoustic session, followed by a midnight show in another
venue. Luckily, some friends were on hand to help us out at the
session, and knowing that we were very much under the gun, took over
some of the singing duties to spare our lovely voices (...), and in
general kept us perked up and playing well. It was well and truly a
helter-skelter blast of a weekend.
The
excitement didn't end with the long weekend. The Fast.Like.Fun track
'Good Girls With Bad Dreams' was played on national radio and the DJ
gave us a lovely shout-out. Happy days! I'm also happy to report that
all that mucking around I did with my pedalboard has paid off! Not
only is my rig free from unwanted buzz and hum, I'm also happy to
welcome back one of my favorite pedals back into the fold; the EHX
Big Muff Pi with Tone Wicker! This particular version of the Muff is
essentially the same old dirtifier used since the dawna'time, but
with a switchable top boost (which can be handy sometimes) and the
ability to take the tone stack out of the circuit (which is handy ALL
THE TIME). Flicking that little switch brings on a huge volume boost,
crystal highs and lovely tight lows. It really shows you how much a
passive tone stack takes away from mids, and depending on the EQ of
the amp, will make every other hatebox sound thin and/or muffled by
comparison. Thing is though, I haven't been using it, as I thought
the facility to power it off the mains was kaputt (and I dislike
using batteries). Turns out I was using it with a power supply that
wasn't giving it enough juice. A quick rearrangement of power
supplies has seen me reunited with my favorite distortion pedal,
causing me to do all kinds of happy dances. I must say however, that
the Boss DS-1 deserves an honourable mention here, as it proved a
fine substitute while the Muff and I weren't talking, and it'll stay
on my board, both as a standby and as it has a significantly
different texture to to the Muff.
So
what else is new...? Last monday at the session, I experimented (due
to necessity as much as curiosity) with using a G-string (huh huh huh
shuddup) an octave higher than usual. In a moment of horror, I
realized (erroneously as it happens) that I didn't have a spare G to
replace the one I had just snapped. Acting purely on instinct (and
alcohol), and with deftness of hand (and alcohol), I slapped on a
.012 gauge, generally used as the high E, and tuned it up an octave
higher than a G normally would be. The result was surprisingly
excellent! It gave a lovely shimmery 12-string effect in the
midrange. I encourage all you guitar players to get good and drunk
and then give it a go. It makes lead work a bit pants, but it
provides a lovely textural difference to chord work. I'm giving
serious thoughts to re-stringing one of my acoustics and tuning it to
'Nashville tuning', which is essentially standard tuning, but raised
either one or two octaves (depending on the string). Summit to fink
about anyway...
Anyway,
enjoy the rest of Hug An AGA Month, guys. Here's hoping it'll be the
best HAAM yet. Mmmmh, ham...
More
to come guys
Much
love and thanks for reading :-)
R
PS
Just to clear things up a bit, the AGA is fine. It just needs a
service. More on this story as it develops. Here's Tom with the
weather.
