The Marron Glace Guitar
A piece of wood, a grill, a plastic handle, a pastry tin, a string and a tuning peg. That's the Marron Glaces Guitar. The instrument was made by Mr. Tim Can (!), who I met for the first time in Tokyo in 2009. We were sharing a bill at a little music spot in Asagaya, Tokyo, called Gamuso. That night I heard him play the instrument, and after the show, asked him about it. had he made it himself? Yes. Did he ever make these kinds of instruments to sell? No, he told me, he'd never really considered that. Would he consider selling this one, or some other similar one he might have lying around at home? He thought about it for moment, then suddenly just... presented it to me! "Here you are" he said, "it's yours". I was stunned, and very, very grateful to this kind gentleman, who I'd only met a couple of hours before. What a wonderful gesture! But I think he could sense that I truly loved the instrument, and that somehow I was destined to play it!
The sound
The acoustic sound of the instrument is very, very low: it absolutely must be amplified to be heard. I attached a pickup to it, just above the bridge, and I run the signal through a distortion pedal. In addition, I often effect the sound with an old BOSS VT-1 harmonizer, which they called a "voice transformer".
People who heard me play the Marron Glace Guitar live were often very interested in the instrument, and were always surprised at what
a humble looking object it really is, once they get close enough to it to really see it. I also think that a lot of folks found it very refreshing to hear and see something so utterly primitive, something that seems to come from some near-mythical past. It's a disarming and unexpected simplicity that the instrument invoked.
People who heard me play the Marron Glace Guitar live were often very interested in the instrument, and were always surprised at what
a humble looking object it really is, once they get close enough to it to really see it. I also think that a lot of folks found it very refreshing to hear and see something so utterly primitive, something that seems to come from some near-mythical past. It's a disarming and unexpected simplicity that the instrument invoked.