Selmer Varitone

 When it comes to playing a “standard” vintage saxophone, there’s no need to worry about finding a performer. Japan has plenty of renowned jazz musicians well-versed in handling vintage instruments. However, this instrument is not “standard.” Moreover, there is likely no player in Japan who has ever played a fully functional Varitone. I sought a performer who could meet several specific requirements while keeping in mind this instrument’s characteristics, potential, and limitations.

First and foremost, they must be skilled at handling the Effector. Naturally, this is non-negotiable. They must be able to control the ambiguous response unique to the analog Effector, and the effects themselves are, compared to digital, rather idyllic. In short, the overall response is sluggish. Incorporating this tricky feature into an actual performance requires a high level of experience and a keen sense for effects.
photo Next, it must possess a diverse musicality. Whenever I listened to jazz players using this system in the past, I realized that the true value of this electric saxophone lies beyond the boundaries of jazz. When played within the formats of bebop or modern jazz, it ends with a simple “Oh, I see.”

The true appeal of the Varitone lies in the interplay between the natural sound and the processed sound. I envisioned a genre-defying “improvisation” where phrases are spun out while being inspired by the shifting tones...

 Finally, though not an absolute requirement, the player should not use an Amesel Mark Six as their primary instrument. Ideally, it would be even better if they were a true veteran who doesn’t feel particularly drawn to Selmer instruments in general.

 The Varitone system is a monstrosity—a bizarre contraption that attaches wiring tubes designed to deliberately dampen the resonance to the legendary Selmer Mark VI, and even drills holes into its precious neck.If you’re a Mark VI fan, you’d undoubtedly be disappointed the moment you saw this instrument, thinking, “What on earth…?” And from the perspective of someone who highly values the Mark VI’s original sound, my enthusiasm plummeted right from the start—I kept thinking, “There’s no need to run electricity through a Mark VI in such great condition.” That wouldn’t do.

 In fact, I had previously announced to a few players, “Actually, we have something like this in our shop,” to gauge their reactions. As expected, I received cold responses like, “Oh, I know that one—what a waste,” or “It’s just got a Effector plugged into it, isn’t it?”Unless the performer is 100% enthusiastic about it, it’s difficult to reflect this instrument’s charm in their playing. That’s how I felt.

My Encounter with Saxophonist Kunikazu Tanaka

 The day after I received word from the technical staff that the amp circuitry was on track to be repaired.
“First, I need to contact Kunikazu Tanaka…”
The wide-ranging conditions I listed at the beginning. Was there really an ideal player who could meet all of them? Some said it was impossible to meet them all. I couldn’t just ask ●▲-san as a stopgap measure. If the results weren’t satisfactory, I’d have no choice but to scrap this project. That would be extremely disrespectful to the performer.
 But there was one. Saxophonist Kunikazu Tanaka, who stands out in the 11-member baritone saxophone ensemble “Tokyo Mid-Low Range” and the duo “sembelIo” with Yūichi Oki (p) of Ska Paradise. Needless to say, he possesses an extremely broad musical range, and there must have been a time when he was quite devoted to Effector. The clincher is that he is universally recognized as a non-Selmer player.If I were to ask anyone to perform a demo for Varitone, he’d be the only choice. I’d already arbitrarily decided he was the top candidate.
photo However, even at this late stage, I hadn’t even approached him yet. It had been a while since I’d spoken with him, so I picked up the phone thinking I’d at least try to get in touch, but as I pondered where to start and what to say, my thoughts became jumbled. I put the phone down and left the shop for my lunch break.
 It happened the moment I stepped out. Amid the crowd on the main street, I spotted a massive man towering a head above everyone else. He had a distinctive hairstyle. Tucked under his arm was a baritone saxophone that, in contrast to his frame, looked like nothing but a tenor sax. Walking toward me with an air of detachment was Kunikazu Tanaka—the man himself. I got goosebumps. Things like this really do happen. I felt grateful for this fateful encounter.

 

Demo performance

 The result is as you can see. A few days after that fateful encounter, Mr. Tanaka visited the store. My only request was, “Please skip the bebop (wry smile), and I’ll leave the rest up to you.” That was it. This demo performance was a cold, unprepared take, performed immediately after a rehearsal that lasted less than 10 minutes—including a quick check of the equipment.
The location was our store’s third-floor sales floor—a cramped space in front of the entrance counter. You can’t tell from the video, but an intense heat beam from a spotlight was shining directly on him. Despite such poor conditions, he delivered a performance that exceeded all expectations.

 Never before has a performance fully demonstrated the capabilities of the Selmer Varitone to this extent. If we could go back to 1965 and show this demo performance to the developer, I wonder what kind of reaction he would have had? There is no doubt that this will be referenced time and again as a sound source for this instrument in the future.

*The controller box is mounted on the key guard beneath the saxophone body. The knobs for adjusting the amplitude depth (DEPTH) and width (SPEED) of the TREMOLO are located on the front of the amplifier.While the player must switch these knobs while playing the saxophone, in past performances, players would simply set the controller’s settings at the beginning and then toggle the NORMAL switch on and off at key moments.In this demo performance, in order to fully utilize the Varitone’s inherent capabilities, various settings are combined within a single song. In the video, you can see Mr. Tanaka instantly adjusting the knobs without interrupting his phrasing. Watching the demo performance while paying attention to the changes in sound and those actions reveals a new level of interest.

 It all started when I happened to run into Mr. Mizumoto from THE Used Instrument Shop on the streets of Okubo one day.
“Ah, long time no see,” “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Oh, right, Mr. Tanaka, I have something I’d like to discuss—or rather, a favor to ask…” he began. After taking care of my business, I visited the shop again. That was the first time I heard the word “Varitone.” I thought, “Huh?” and when the actual unit was brought out in front of me, I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Whoa!!!”

 A shiny MK6 and an amp with a Selmer logo on it for some reason... what on earth is this? Thanks to Mr. Mizumoto’s detailed explanation, I learned it was an analog effects system developed to accommodate the electric era, and my eyes were glued to the “electric” modifications made to the saxophone itself.A neck fitted with a piezo microphone, “piping” running along the body to route the wiring, and the Mark 6 engraving sitting sheepishly beside it… This is a rare item among rare items!

  First, I tried playing the saxophone itself... While I’m widely recognized—and admit myselfas not a Selmer player, I thought, “Ah, it’s a Mark 6!” And the playing feel was remarkably smooth, almost as if it had barely been used—a truly impressive sensation.

After that, I moved on to a test play with the “power on”—and this was incredibly interesting. First, the way the echo worked was typical of the electric echoes of that era. As for the octaver, you had to put some air into it—or rather, produce a sound rich in harmonics to get the body to vibrate—or it wouldn’t work.As for the tremolo, it pulsed relentlessly like an artificial heart. Combined with the overall sense of inefficiency and awkward handling, I found myself deeply moved, thinking, “What a truly endearing system this is.”
Actually, there was a time when I was pretty hooked on effects, and I used to love digital and analog delays, loops, envelope filters, auto-wahs, wah-wahs, octavers, and so on (I still use them occasionally).

 The Varitone lacks that digital “thud” and sensitive response entirely, but considering the music of the era it was made for, there’s no doubt they were aiming for a pretty hip sound. The sensation of a sound completely different from natural reverberation “electrifying” your body and emanating outward must have been a novelty that we, born in an era where effects are commonplace, can hardly fathom.I imagine the staff on the “electric” side were full of enthusiasm, but I can just picture the saxophone craftsmen, tilting their heads in confusion and wondering, “Why are we doing this?” while still attaching the tubing exactly as specified in the blueprints (laughs).

 I don’t know exactly how many of these systems were actually made, but I suspect they didn’t circulate widely on the market.Manufacturing costs were likely high, and since it inevitably faced a competitive disadvantage against the Barcasberry piezo microphone, it probably faded into obscurity. Actual recordings by Eddie Harris and Sonny Stitt do exist (though I haven’t heard them myself), but when recording the audio samples for this project, I was simply asked to provide a performance that didn’t sound like I’d just slapped an effect onto a bebop track (lol).And so, this rather crude sample track was born. Since I didn’t have enough time to fully familiarize myself with the system before recording, I simply asked the musician to play whatever came to mind on the spot. I’m thinking it might be interesting to record a “Version 2” sample in the future, perhaps after using it in a live setting.
 As an aside, some time later, at a repairman friend’s workshop, I saw the actual alto saxophone that had been part of the Varitone system. All the wiring and piping had been removed, leaving it in the state of “just an alto saxophone.” It was like seeing a defeated warrior, and a tinge of sadness suddenly crossed my mind.

Kunikazu Tanaka Profile

 Born in 1966. He became fascinated with jazz and pop music during his university days and has since taught himself to play the saxophone. With his sweet tone and a style described as “surveying a wide range of music,” he blends into any sound while exuding a unique presence.In addition to his solo work, primarily in jazz, he participates in various groups including “sembello” (a duo with Oki from Ska Paradise), “Tokyo Mid-Low Range” (an ensemble of 11 baritone saxophonists), “blackvelvets” (a contemporary reinterpretation of mood music), and the “Kunikazu Tanaka Jazz Trio.”
He has extensive experience in recording and sessions. He has performed at festivals in New York, London, Monterey, and elsewhere, both domestically and internationally, and continues to expand his scope of activity.

www.kuni-kuni.net

Rehearsal

 I recall my first encounter with the Selmer Varitone system. Beforehand, I had only heard that it was a deadstock New equivalent!!—specifically, an American Selmer tenor in the 140,000 series.My heart was racing. The moment I opened the case, “Hey, who did this?! Effector is still stuck inside! It’s supposed to be just like New, so I can’t believe this. Seriously. Huh? They’re stuck together…”

 To be honest, I was one of those who was disappointed. The more I looked at it, the more I sighed in disappointment. Both the neck and body were virtually unscathed, with no signs of wear. It was a Mark VI in true deadstock condition. And yet...

 I managed to pull myself together and looked into this instrument. Among the players who used this model back in the ’60s was Eddie Harris. I listened to Harris’s playing. It had been over twenty years. Memories of listening to that same record back in my student days came flooding back.Ah, just as I thought. Amidst a thoroughly laid-back, funky performance, I could hear the overlapping of those thin, mosquito-like octaves. Back then, I’d sensed that the sound processing was somehow shoddy, but I never in a million years would have guessed this was a performance using an electric saxophone. So this is the sound of the Varitone? I was even more disheartened.

 The turning point came when part of my dying system was restored. The neck pickup came back to life, so I decided to give it a try. Though imperfect, I was taken aback by the tenacious power of the octaver. It was in a completely different league from that faint, mosquito-like octave I’d heard on the record. I was convinced this was going to be interesting.

Finally, I would like to thank Mr. Tomita and Mr. Sato for their tireless efforts in tuning this troublesome instrument.

Project Manager: Mizumoto

 

*Finally, please enjoy this rehearsal take recorded just before the demo performance. Even though it’s just a rehearsal, it’s well worth a listen!

 

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