For a while there, I had three pianos.
Some of my faithful fans know that, in addition to being a guitar hemidemisemigod, I’m also a classically trained pianist. And when I got to Boston in 1984, I needed a piano to practice on, and what I bought was a Yamaha CP-80 suitcase piano. Back then, there warn’t no setch thang as a digital sampling grand, and when rock’n’roll pianists went on tour, what they took with them was one of these bad babies. They’re kind of a marvel, the CP-70 and CP-80: hammers, strings, harp, but no sounding board, and they disassemble into two large, black, heavy “suitcases” which roadies with very large biceps could move around. The CP-70 was bad enough, but at least it had a smaller keyboard; the CP-80 was truly hernia-worthy, with a full 88 keys and a harp to match. I moved mine into my first-floor apartment in Somerville, then somehow managed to move it into my third-floor apartment in Medford, and then back to another first-floor apartment in Somerville, and then up to my third-floor condo in Cambridge, where it sat for 20 years. That’s 4 times, and the final one may have been the folks from Gentle Giant rather than me, and it was
When I joined my band in 1987, it was clear that I actually needed something I could carry around, and conveniently, the first digital sampling grands had finally been introduced, and I bought one, a Korg, and while it wasn’t any sort of party to move, it was at least possible with a minimum of swearing, and I was young and still relatively stupid and it was pretty much the only reasonable option. And, like its more monstrous partner, it was my faithful companion for 30 years.
But the world has changed. My heavens, how it’s changed. You can get a new digital grand that weighs barely more than my guitar, for what seems like the loose change in my sofa cushions, at least compared to the astonishing dent in my pocketbook that my old friends made. And sound-wise, most of these new kids beat the pants off my old Korg, moldering as it was in my living room, un-toured, unmoved, undusted. And the CP-80 electronics had failed several years ago, and so there was a huge pile of pointless instruments just hunkering down in my house.
So it was time. I went out and bought a new Yamana P-125, which has a great sound and a good keyboard feel, and sold my Korg for a pittance to a nice young man who wanted something to learn the piano on – and then the CP-80 had to go.
But it really wasn’t clear how. I don’t know who would want a CP-80 nowadays, especially a broken CP-80. But I knew who would know – my friend Jason Benjamin. I met Jason when he was 16 years old, mixing sound at the Center for Arts in Natick, already a veteran of European rock’n’roll tours (don’t ask me how he managed that; maybe he told his parents he was going over to his friend’s house for a verrrrrry long playdate). He recorded my album “I’m Not a Modest Man” right here in my living room, the one with the white elephant piano in it. And I just knew that he’d know someone who would give it a good home.
And he did. A friend of his in Pawtucket, RI has a new loft studio where he teaches music, and he wants the piano to teach on, and another friend of his is a piano tech who’s all set to fix it up. And so a few days ago, Jason brought his crew over and, because now I’m an old fart and have muscles that would prefer not to be pulled, I watched them carry that monster down the stairs.
I’m pleased to report that no injuries were incurred, with the exception of the one to my ego. Thirty years is a long time to have an instrument, and while I have a worthy, giggable replacement for the Korg, the CP-80 has a place in my heart that won’t be filled anytime soon. It was a piece of history, a link back to the days of album-oriented rock’n’roll that I cut my musical teeth on. I miss it – its weight, its size, its iconic shape. And I can’t imagine falling in love with the P-125 – it’s a tool, nothing more.
You kids get off my lawn.