I recently had the good fortune to discuss the difference in sound between the two guitars that made rock and roll possible: the Gibson Les Paul and the Fender Stratocaster. The Les Paul gave the power chord its oomph, its crunch. The sound is thick, dense and becomes even thicker with the addition of distortion. To think of distortion as an additive to the Les Paul’s signature sound, though, is to call red wine an addition to a great meal. One is incomplete without the other.
Gawd, the metaphors, they just stack up.
The difference between the Stratocaster (is there a more perfect Midcentury Modern product name in the world and the Les Paul is the difference between the guitar solos in “Purple Haze” and “Stairway to Heaven.” The former is butterfly wings on sunshine, a ballet without choreography. That latter is a lighthouse in the night, words from a prophet.
What I find interesting is how those two instruments inform what the player chooses to play. The very nature of the sound influences what the guitarist chooses to play. Erwin Schrödinger would find that inspiring.
Similarly, I’ve been thinking about how different materials affect my ride experience. By that I mean not just what I feel while I’m riding, but also how that material influences how I choose to ride. I’ve been fortunate to ride road and mountain bikes made from steel, aluminum, titanium and carbon fiber. I’ve also ridden gravel bikes made from steel, titanium and carbon fiber. Each of the materials has its strengths (and yes, I get that that sounds like such a party line, but the industry would be screwed without aluminum), but of all the materials, the one that most routinely makes the bike disappear beneath me is steel.
To say the bike disappears undersells the experience. The experience of riding a great bike made from steel (the material the industry at large is least interested in producing bikes from), isn’t that you cease to notice the bike. It’s that the bike becomes a conduit of perception. No other material cause such congruent alignment between what I see before me and what I sense as I roll over it on my bike. Aluminum can make any road seem cobbled. Titanium makes every road seem smoother than I perceive them to be. And carbon fiber? No telling. It may make a road appear smoother than it is, or harsher than it is, or both. But with road and gravel bikes, steel harmonizes what we see with what we feel, and that lack of obtrusive perception of what the bike is doing is what causes the bike to disappear.
The sensation I experience when I roll out on a steel bike I haven’t ridden in weeks, or possibly even months never fails to wow me. How many times have I gone two or three weeks without riding a steel bike only to return and go, “Right, I keep forgetting how much I enjoy this experience … until I get back on a steel bike and remember, ‘Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting how much I love this.'”
It’s enough to make me swear off carbon fiber.
Okay, I love this post! Guitars and bikes in a single dialog? Yeah c’mon! Ironically I am neither a fan of either of those guitars as I prefer SGs. Single pick up SGs even better.
However to continue the guitar/bike material dialog, I do not believe it really matters. I’ve ridden steel bikes that felt like garbage and alloy models that were silky. Ditto for carbon and titanium. It comes down to how they are made and the user. This parallels my feeling on musical equipment. There was a time when I had crazy expensive highly sought after gear. Two quotes I’ll paraphrase upended my opinion on this. First, “You can fake a lot of things in music, but you can’t fake cheap” and “No what guitar you are playing, it’s still you playing it.” I have nothing against anyone who seeks apex bikes, guitars, or anything if that is what turns them on. However, I will still ride like I do on Mathieu van der Poel’s bike and play like I do with Billy Gibbon’s guitar. Both of those guys are killer in their respective fields, but I don’t wish to be them. I will play my cheap SG and ride my fairly basic non electrified* bikes with glee and fury that is wholly mine.
*Don’t what @ me about e-bikes. Yeah I have one and it’s okay, but I like my Amish bikes better.
Great post. Fun read. Thank you.
I have a diverse quiver with a personal preference for steel in many cases as well. That said, you got me thinking beyond that truth about the mood and riding days(and guitar riffs…) associated with each bike as well.
I wonder how much of your especially positive experience around steel is buoyed by the fact that, when you find yourself reaching for the DiNucci, you are also in a great headspace with a sick bike ride on deck —perhaps about to head somewhere cool and ride for the joy of it with awesome folks for example.