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Jimmy wields a Squier Stratocaster from an introductory " Strat Pak." Lo-price, lo-fi, lo-quality. He loves it though and after several years of abuse it boasts nary a scratch. Factory
pickups, of course. This guitar has weathered the whims of youthful musical evolution and has been frequently outfitted in
the names of fleeting fancy: Limp Bizkit, K's Choice, etc. Today it sports a Rage sticker on its nether side, whence flows
its Soul Power. A fire-spitting dragon of the Far East.
Jimmy plays through a ZOOM GFX-707 all-purpose effects monster. 100% digital, 125% furious. It will sing you sweetly to sleep, then sack city-states and
raise the voodoo dead while you're down. That's just its mentality. The thin plastic shell says Kitten but its silicon
heart is pure rock-n-roll Wildcat. Keep eyes and ears inside the trolley. And bundle up before you go out.
At the summit of Mount Young Rebel is Jimmy's Crate GFX212, better known as Chernobyl Jr. All the explosive power with an extra helping of teenage angst. "Don't got no tubes but I
got sooooooooooooul." Turn up the gain and keep your mouth shut unless you want your fillings sucked out. We had to hire
a guy to keep track of all the spleens this beast has ruptured. Then that guy had to hire a doctor when he got his
spleen ruptured. We warned him. Jimmy used to get calls from the airport all the time, saying turn it down. It was getting
bothersome until Chernobyl Jr. knocked down all the phone lines within a half-mile radius. Chernobyl Jr. has since refined
its powers and reached heightened consciousness at the feet of Eastern mystics. Chernobyl Jr. can't tell you the
sound of one hand clapping. But the sound of one hand exploding, that's easy.
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