My very first bass. I'm 14, and it's down to the local music shop, with Mum (a woman who can spot a bargain from a thousand yards).
I'm checking out the Ps and the Js, knowing that there's no way I'll get my hands on one, but hoping for something that will at least have some vague credibility with the guys in "the band" (five other talentless losers who think playing music will result in the girls at school not projectile vomiting whenever they look at us).
And there it is: the ultimate example of bass un-coolness. It's some no-name Japanese monstrosity (this is the early 70s - Japanese meant "unplayable" then). It appears to be the bastard lovechild of a Gibson 335 and a Gretsch Country Gentleman - only its a bass. It looks like it came straight off the set of "Gidget Goes Hog Wild in Georgia", having passed briefly through Transylvania.
It's black (that's good!), with pink metalflake body binding (that's not good, not good at all). It's enormous, and about 3 inches thick. It's got these weird pickups with something that looks like gold-ish rope around the poles. The knobs are some sort of Bakelite: "Yes, Igor, yes! Throw the switch and the creature will live! MWAAHAAHAAHAAH!"
Call me shallow, but I knew this bass was not going to enhance my prospects of actually talking to girls (is there another reason for joining a band at age 14?) In my mother's eyes it was a thing of beauty - or, at least, the price tag was. A$59. $30 cheaper than anything else in the shop.
How did it sound? I've no idea - I've got this sort of mental block. I don't actually remember ever playing it. Certainly not in public - frighten the horses if you know what I mean.
A few months later I found a second-hand Fender Music Master bass for sale for $100. Lake Placid Blue. Vaguely cool. Managed to sweet talk my Dad into it - "My musical progress is being blocked by the awful bass Mum bought me ... women, huh! Blah, blah...".
I do remember that we sold the monster to some poor bastard (and his Mum), for $45. He didn't seem overly impressed either.
Damn, I wish I still had it. Not for it's collectible value, just for it's wonderful weirdness. It's like someone had been told about bass guitars, but had never actually seen one in the flesh - and then built one anyway.
I've still got the Music Master