enter "Yanagisawa 00157838"

Heee heee heee

I’ve got a saxophone!

I’ve managed to make it go

HONK

and

PARP

and

FUUUURRRRPPle

Sophie & I went to Footes, then to Howarth's – and it was in the latter that MY sax (note personal pronoun) was found!

It’s a Yanagisawa (model 1070, I think) and its serial number is 00157838.
It’s pre-loved, couple of scratches on the laquer and one teeny tiny plimpy-pimply-dentling, less than 2mm deep, and fat-pinprick-sized across. It’s a bit of a class above the others we tried at similar prices – not so much a beginner model as they were, to be fair.
It 'spoke' to both of us
– and it called my name!

I’d intended not to be spending over £700 unless we unearthed something special – but I think my little Yani is well worth the £800 I paid for it (I know, I know, I’m naughty, but it’s an instrument – so it’s important).
Mr Howarths-sax-man told me to insure it for around £1500 – so that’ll be another object on the British Reserve list!

Footes had a few – Sophie gave the Jupiter 500 a workout there, then a Yamaha (275?) – neither made the earth move much for either of us – didn’t even make it wibble really.

The used Yamaha of the same model that Footes had (they have 6 of them, at the moment) raised the bar – not matched by the Jupiter 700 which was up next.

From Footes’s selection it was clear that the second-hand Yamaha was in the lead. We took a rain-check & decamped to Golden Square’s Starbucks (I think it was the last Seattle Coffee Company, outside bookshops or anything, to mutate into a Starb’s. Seattle CC’s demise was a tragic loss to society). Thus fortified by tea & caramel waffley-biscuity-thingies [Sophie] and latte & gingerbread-bumble-bee [moi], we put in a couple of calls – one to Howarths and the other to “London Saxophone Co” in Clerkenwell (no answer then, but they rung back later on to say they only had one Jupiter 500 in stock as they buy to order). Howarths, how[arth]ever, said they had quite a few possible candidates in stock – so we puttered down there from Baker Street (past a very aromatic DynoRod drain-unblocking team…eeeewwww) to darken their doors and peruse their wares.

The parade of new saxes from them comprised

Jupiter 700

Elkhart something-or-other

Yamaha summat or other (possibly the 275 again)

Trevor James [enhanced? Maybe? Something anyway]

The Elkhart surprised us – outdoing the Jupiter and the Yamaha as it cantered up the side. Still out in front, though, was Footes’s Yamaha – a robust young filly with good standing in the bookies’ reckonings, but a late break from the dark horse on the left, Trevor James, with its black-pearl keys and aerobie-frisbee style octave-key action left the used Yamaha eating dust. It looked like a clear win for young Trev, a thoroughbread colt showing his gleaming pedigree when I actually liked it enough to have a go – and my first EVER saxophone honk was made on it.

We closed the door

it seemed like a good idea!

I asked whether they had anything in the pre-owned department, so the nice man went off and dug out the Yani – the others on their golden-oldies list were all either

a) out of my price-range

or

b) vintage-type horns – probably old-style mechanism’s not exactly what one needs as a beginner!

The race resumed – but from Yanagisawa’s first notes the others were eclipsed. The old nag’s nose, ears, mane and tail were over the line before young Trev. had even snuffled at the tape.

Badly crafted metaphors aside, the Yani’s sound was more like the jazz velvet I’m lusting after (well, it was when Sophie played it – I managed to attain something more akin to a disgruntled articulated lorry in thick fog parping loudly at an irritating ant-like car driver).

It also weighed appreciably less than Mr.James’s protégé did, and its keys were light and didn’t sound like a wrought-iron statue trying to tiptoe up an old-style fire-escape, which is a bonus.

The lighter keywork is particularly handy (pun-potential) for the old left-thumb war-wound, especially as its job on the sax is to be 8ve-key operator.

My parpings on the Yani were slightly less offensive than on the TJ – and let’s face it, I need all the help I can possibly get!

Poor little horn – it was sitting in Howarths expecting to be bought by a nice professional saxist, and it’s got stuck with a 3^rd-rate violist who’s never touched a reeded instrument, except a crumhorn which doesn’t count because its reed has a little hat on, so you can merrily remain oblivious to its existence.

I’ve not given it a name yet
– any suggestions, post your comments now!

After a brief debrief in Wetherspoons next to Baker St tube, during which Sophie & I arranged my first lesson (she’s not run away screaming after the terrible tootings, beepings and parpings emitting from such a nice sax subjected to my tender mercies, which is very nice of her! She was a perfect STAR today, demonstrating patience of saint & nice-personness along with good musician-ness!), I surfed the Metropolitan Line, thinking all the way up “I’ve got a sax!”, cam into the house, where Liz was practising Don Giovanni bits on Charlie Cello, brandished my case and intimated “I’ve got a saxophone”.

Repeatedly.

Very repeatedly.

Very very repeatedly.

Etc

Having demonstrated my prowess at making rude noises on my new acquisition, I retreated upstairs to Liz’s Loft and did a bit of practise – loooonnnggg notes, couple of little tunes, and generally trying to get to grips with a new and alien beastie (while trying to assure it that I really do 'come in peace').

Stopped when lower face began to feel like jelly.

Looking forward to Tuesday’s lesson, and looking forward to more practising too!

It’s so exciting –

I’ve got a SAXOPHONE!

I’VE got a saxophone!

I’ve GOT a saxophone!

Hee hee!