The problem of cymbals

So, yes, I have been rushing around trying to get ready for this trip. I got my passport mailed off, and also got the news that I will be better served by bringing my own cymbals. This is a problem on two levels- one is that the cymbals for Music Hates You are massive plates of bronze- the sort of thing that could double as a shield if one got into a dustup while drinking at Medieval Times. However, much of the Low Lows material is played with brushes. This is one step up from breathing hard on the drums. Striking a massive heavy cymbal with a brush is a fart in a hurricane. No sound shall emerge. This is bad.

Additionally, all of these massive cymbals, I am a bit ashamed to admit, are broken. Life’s tough when you’re a Music Hates You cymbal. Really tough. When a cymbal breaks, whatever magic symmetry that makes the ringing crash of a cymbal possible is interrupted. I don’t know exactly what the physics are, but I can certainly hear it the second a cymbal goes. Suddenly the tone goes from warm and bright and majestic to the disheartening “tank tank tank” of someone bashing a serving platter with a spoon. It’s depressing.

So, new cymbals must be begged, borrowed, stolen or, god forbid, purchased at retail price. (this last one is the least likely option… because that would involve spending MONEY, which is in short supply around here, let me assure you.) Then I have to check them as baggage- a proposition that seems nearly certain to end in tears.

I am hoping, HOPING that the Bosphorus cymbal company comes through with some kind of deal for me to endorse their fine products.

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