I was all set to jump in my van and drive to vancouver BC (600 miles round trip) to pick up an M3 and a 147 for $1000...but it sold before my day off happened.
Yesterday a Leslie 25 came and went like smoke on craigslist for $150 while I spent the day making $100 at work.
BUT! Now I have found a store that has a 25, a 45 and a 147RV for $400, $840 and $850 respectively. I just got back from checking them out. Unfortunately something was wrong with the sound of the organ or there was a bad cable...or I don't know what I'm doing hooking them up. It's a little disconcerting plugging these things in with old frayed cables and all that voltage. So I'm going to go back when the owner is in to help. I was getting serious crackling and hum from all of them so I hope it's the organ they had.
I'm curious as to why a 45 would fetch as much as a 147. After all, it's only got one speed. On the other hand, the size sure is nice, and I could always add a two speed kit for about $250 and labor. Of course I'll get the 147...but I just wanted to hear from some Leslie owners.
It's killing me that I traded a pristine B3 and 122 (that I bought from the original owner for $1300)for a Yamaha CP80 that I probably could have gotten for $500 had I been hip to the internet back in 1999. Ah well..never again.
If you've made it this far...an amusing story. My sister loaned me the cash for that B3 back in 1996. A year later I was visiting her in Phoenix. She was married to an architect who had done the interior for a posh new supper club that his friend owned. They took me there for drinks to see the place. There was a jazz quartet that was sort of the house band at the time. The bandleader was a jazz organist named Royce Murray. One of those cats that can just play the shit out of the hammond...drawbars, pedals, swell pedal, the works. He had an amazing band as well, all these dudes that probably could have played with Miles. Drums, guitar and sax - Royce was covering the bass of course. My sister turns to me and says, "You should sit in with those guys!" I'm look at her and say, "Are you nuts?" These guys are serious jazz players!" She starts to pout - she had told the club owner about her little brother who was now playing in a marginally well known band, she had bought me a Hammond, and dammit, she wanted to show me off to her friends. She wouldn't take no for an answer, and I started thinking about some jazz tunes I had played that the band might know. I thought of a few that might work and reluctantly said okay. She perked right up and told the owner that he should let me sit in. He talks to the band, I see Royce look in my direction and give me a smile.
The owner comes back and says I can play after the next tune. Then the band proceeds to tear up God Bless the Child. i swear I'd never heard a Hammond sound so good. I mean the guy was just smoking...all these roaring Absus11#5b13 chords (heh). I was just sitting there with a sinking feeling. Then they finish up to uproarious applause from the 50 or so members of the audience and Royce tells the crowd that they are about to be treated to a special guest in a national act and brings up the white boy. I ask the band if they know Riviera Paradise. Three blank looks. Ditto for all my other suggestions. With the clock ticking, we decide on - I shit you not -Girl from Ipanema, then When A Man Loves A Woman, which i hoped to at least play well enough to not completely embarrass myself. I go over to Royce and thank him. The band plays the intro, I put my hands on both manuals, and....nothing. Not a peep. The tune sputters to a stop. My face is burning and my mind is a total blank. Turns out it's standard practice when turning over one's Hammond to hit the extreme left preset key to 'clear the decks', as real players will want their own sound...I had liked what i had been hearing so much I didn't want to touch a thing.
I grab some drawbars, we start again, and the organ sounds like elevator music. Like going from Jimi to Tiny Tim. Somehow I get through the tune and to polite applause, the band goes into WAMLAW. Now get this: the chords on that tune are C, G, Am, Em. F, G, C, right? I start playing C, Am, F, G, you know, Heart and Soul.
I'm playing the melody, the pedals, and accompanying chords which are completely against what the other guys are playing. I swear to god my mind was like a wild bird trapped in the house. I realize something's wrong but can't figure out what. Just then the drummer, an Art Blakey lookin dude, from behind his sunglasses drawls audibly, "This is Bulllllshit!'
They cut the tune and I slink off after Royce is gracious enough to come up and shake my hand.
Fuck. Thanks sis.
Let me tell you. Being able to play reggae and Pink Floyd tunes with a rock band does not a Hammond player make. Even now as i write this the utter humiliation of that event is etched in my mind. The only thing that made it worth it was the laughs I've had with other people retelling that story. More than one of the bands I've played with since then have adopted the catchphrase "This is Bulllllshit!" It always cracks us up.
