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The past few months have been increasingly frustrating; a sort of tenor sax purgatory. I've been struggling and struggling to keep intonation, articulation and everything else for that matter under control. The sax has become an unruly beast, an object of loathing
Today I read this http://www.steveduke.net/pdf/steve_d..._placement.pdf care of davidk to whom I am very grateful: http://cafesaxophone.com/showthread.php?3186-Embouchure/page4
I followed the instructions and quickly realised that I've been allowing the mouthpiece to sit further and further back on the cork (dunno why) consequently creating a wildly difficult set-up. I've been tuning the midrange to a tuner then watching the pointer oscillate from way sharp in the high range to way flat, flat as roadkill, in the low. Despite the precarious mouthpiece position I didn't use my tiny, teeny tiny, peanut sized brain to consider that the problem wasn't the equipment it was me (I do know that rule wot I broke)
Anyway the difference is chalk and fromage. The tenor is back to being a musical instrument rather than a wicked piece of yellow metal sent up from Hades to expose my inadequacies as a musician, sentient being and hitherto functioning member of society
I should probably learn a lesson from this. But the dim bulb that illuminated the peanut inside my head oh so briefly this evening will fade soon and I'll end up doing something stupid, very stupid or stupidissimo in the not too distant
Today I read this http://www.steveduke.net/pdf/steve_d..._placement.pdf care of davidk to whom I am very grateful: http://cafesaxophone.com/showthread.php?3186-Embouchure/page4
I followed the instructions and quickly realised that I've been allowing the mouthpiece to sit further and further back on the cork (dunno why) consequently creating a wildly difficult set-up. I've been tuning the midrange to a tuner then watching the pointer oscillate from way sharp in the high range to way flat, flat as roadkill, in the low. Despite the precarious mouthpiece position I didn't use my tiny, teeny tiny, peanut sized brain to consider that the problem wasn't the equipment it was me (I do know that rule wot I broke)
Anyway the difference is chalk and fromage. The tenor is back to being a musical instrument rather than a wicked piece of yellow metal sent up from Hades to expose my inadequacies as a musician, sentient being and hitherto functioning member of society
I should probably learn a lesson from this. But the dim bulb that illuminated the peanut inside my head oh so briefly this evening will fade soon and I'll end up doing something stupid, very stupid or stupidissimo in the not too distant
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