Bass box – Jill Domschot

I wrote several very long paragraphs on the Social Contract and then put it aside in my drafts because I honestly hate preaching about subjects such as this. While I appreciate reading about philosophy, politics, and religion, and how they intermingle, there comes a point where people are preaching and nobody is listening. Furthermore, nobody is changing society at all. Oh, yes, of course, one can change society little by little through the infiltration of ideas in schools and universities; progressives did this throughout the 20th C and are still at work today. But sadly, my post was triggered by irritation at the manipulation behind the phrase social contract…and if I keep going, I might as well just pull out my post from its place in the dreaded wasteland of drafts. Another tantalizing yet frustrating subject I had brought up in that post is my unpopular opinion that lowering the teenage pregnancy rate is not positive progress but negative decline. And on that note…

The most important subject is obviously the Gospel. However, the most important subject to this blog has become music. Accordions. My mind has been dwelling on purchasing a new one. After spending $4K on one, you’d think I wouldn’t buy another one for a long time. What you don’t understand is that accordions are like very expensive harmonicas, and acordeonistas need different keys. The one that died in the traffic accident was a GCF. After reviewing numerous norteño songs, I discovered that most are played on the FBbEb accordion. Hence, I purchased one. However, I would still like to have a GCF again, as that is the second most commonly played instrument. Someday, I will purchase an EAD because that one is also occasionally played in the genre. In fact, the master Ramon Ayala often plays an EAD. This confused me for a long time, as I thought EAD was commonly played, but I was being swayed by the sound of Ayala’s songs.

Apart from desiring a GCF accordion, I would also like an accordion with bass buttons that aren’t dummy buttons. Yes, that’s correct; my expensive Gabbanelli has dummy buttons. I suppose this is so that bass blocks could be added at some point; there are tiny tornillos that can be unscrewed to open up the left-handed bass side of the instrument. I’ve heard it’s difficult to persuade the company to put in bass blocks because it will create a weightier instrument with an altered sound. When norteño as a genre has a familiar sound due to the fact that so many of the musicians play Gabbanellis, it’s a bit risky to make any changes. The only way to have pre-installed bass blocks is to buy a cheaper instrument. Therefore, I’m considering purchasing a Hohner Corona II or Classic, which are quality instruments (made in Germany), in order to practice with the left hand again. Also, if the accordion is the only instrument available, and I’m playing for family or friends, songs would be more complete with their bass parts. Of course, norteño bands have rhythm instruments, so they don’t use the left hand anyway. In fact, one of my favorite online accordion tutorial teachers has a video on how to remove the bass blocks from your instrument for the above stated reason. There is already a bajo sexto y bajo in the group.

But that isn’t to say no norteño acordeonistas use the left hand — Celso Piña, who has now passed away, used his bass buttons in cumbias. I enjoy his songs because they have a different sound. I also really enjoy watching videos of him playing live. It’s exciting, the music infectious. He played a Hohner Corona, by the way. Believe it or not, you will even find musicians who play piano accordions in this genre. One of my favorites is Fidel Rueda. I don’t know how to describe his music, except as “sexy” but that sounds crass and doesn’t quite express what I want to say when his vocals, the accordion, and the brass blend together. I should probably make up a word, instead.

Speaking of word invention, there is a word for that in Spanish. It is jitanjáfora. I learned this word some time ago when I was trying to figure out what El Pávido Návido means. That’s the name of a song, and it disheartened me when I realized one day I had no idea what it meant, and I’m tired of my poor Spanish vocabulary. Don’t get me wrong; I can understand the music tutorials and interviews I listen to because they have necessary context. But then I’m thrown by a catchy song title. As it turns out, the title is a jitanjáfora. That’s either a relief or not, since I don’t know Spanish well enough to recognize nonsense rhyming words. Today, I will post pictures of the two rebel accordion players I mentioned. You can seek out their songs if you choose.