The set up

For some time now I've been whining like a bitch about how my guitar lacked playability and have been idly talking about getting it set up by a pro. Though it was always a triumph of style over substance, the maroon Danelectro had degenerated and, by early 2007, the action was so diabolical that one needed to deploy a series of clamps and vices in order to make the strings touch the fretboard up at the higher end of the register. On Saturday I decided to stop whinging and start doing. I took my weapon into Footscray's Troy House of Music store, where the lovely Cool-hand Luke set it up and handed it back hours later spit-shiny and with new strings.

After accepting my $100 he then informed me that my guitar was a heap of shit and that I'd be better off investing in a Fender Telecaster or even, God forbid, a Squire. Painful as it is to recount, testing bore out his theory. Though he looks like a fifty-something accountant, Luke dashed off some blazing metal solo-work - his fingers flying so dramatically and tone wailing so emotively that he attracted two junkies in from the street. They stood in awe and mutely took in his epic work. When the ice fiends moved closer and tried to touch him, Luke scared them away by snapping off the overdrive and switching into some cool jazz shit that would have torn even the great John McLaughlin a new one.

In a bemusing postscript, My dad rocked around to Silk Manor on Sunday for a bbq - toting the brand new Squire Tele he'd just impulse bought at Manny's that morning. He also picked up a new amp while he was there.

On Tuesday the reborn Danelectro gets it first big chance... if it can't step up to the plate, a trip to Manny's might loom in the future.